Driving home from work tonight, I heard a promo for a story on NPR about shopaholics. You betcha I sat in my car, raptly awaiting insights—and possibly affirmation.
It's no secret that every junker is a shopaholic. Not a single one of us ever says "Meh, I just went junking last weekend" or "I've got plenty; why buy more?" or "There will be loads of garage sales next weekend. I'm sleeping in."
The teaser was a series of questions borderline shopaholics should ask themselves while shopping—or, for me, junking. I answered each quietly in my head, unafraid of judgement:
Why am I here?
I'm the junkiest junker alive. I need my junk.
It's not a proper weekend if I'm not junking.
How do I feel?
Elated and thrilled.
With slight undertones of panic.
Do I need this?
I don't understand this question. Define "need".
What if I wait?
Are you kidding?! Some other dealer will snatch it.
I'll never find another one of these at this price.
I have to buy it when I find it, or I'll make panic purchases.
How will I pay for it?
Any way I can. I'll even barter. And eventually I'll "pay" for it in sweat, nausea, and regret up until the very day it sells.
And, where will I put it?
Anywhere I can. My home is a testament to my commitment.
Who are you calling a shopaholic? We're dedicated.