Your question reminds me of my grandparents who were having a HUGE argument over whether or not to lock the back door when I was visiting. Granny insisted that I should lock the back door when I came back in. Papa demanded that I NOT lock the back door, because one time he got locked out when he was working in the yard, when Granny locked all the doors before she left to go shopping. The argument kept going, forcing me to hover by the back door waiting for the final decision. Granny was crying, Papa was yelling, I was trying to mediate from my hovering position. Finally, Granny retreated to the bedroom crying & Papa stopped yelling & started muttering. I asked him, "When I'm not here, how do you two make a decision? How do you determine who is right?" He replied, "There is no right."
It sounded very wise. Kinda like the Tao. Or Yoda. It was then that I had a moment of clarity:
I am doomed. Mental illness is clearly a hereditary issue on both sides of my family, possibly for generations.
I left the door unlocked, then I later locked it when they were preoccupied watching the news at a volume level I didn't even know existed on the old gargantuan TVs. 🙉
I concur. Be it money or merchandise, acquiring becomes an addiction. It's a peculiar facet of human-ness that we want more this, more that, & surplus to boot "just in case." From cradle to grave, we want, we consume, & buy into the fallacy that more of everything is always better. Babies can understand the concept of "more" before they speak.
How fortunate then that we live in a 24/7 onslaught of advertising from the all the talking, colorful, musical rectangles we stare at as soon as our eyes open, on a daily basis. Where would we be without someone yammering in our ears about what cereal is the yummiest, crunchiest, yada yada from infancy forward?
Idiotic advertising is the bane of my existence, so I am fairly adept at dismissing the siren call of "This $75 infinitesimal vial of fragrance will make you alluring, youthful, & HOT, just like this scantily clad, anorexic, pouty-lipped woman we found waitressing at Hooters!"
But. Drop me off at a craft store sale & suddenly I NEED ALL THE BEADS, YARN, PAPER, & WHATEVER THE HELL THIS THING IS, IN ALL THE COLORS!!! Cue the justification. Most of my crafty friends are hoarders & I've been admonished by my own mother for being "an organized hoarder." (But seriously who is she to talk when she has a walk-in closet full of color-coordinated pant suits?) So I console myself, rationalizing my craft-store clearance aisle addiction by scoffing at the fools hoarding toilet paper in their prepper-basements. So who am I to judge anyway?
Here's to surviving another week in Trumptopia... I'm off to assuage my stress levels by sorting big containers of beads by color, type, & size into smaller containers I ordered in bulk from the store oddly still known as Dollar Tree, despite raising its price to $1.25. Is nothing sacred?!
Amen, Brother.
Back when I was a control freak, I had to be right about everything all of the time. No exceptions. Ever.
Then my shrink asked me, "Would you rather be right or happy?"
Substitute 'rich' for 'right'...the question still works.
For real!
Your question reminds me of my grandparents who were having a HUGE argument over whether or not to lock the back door when I was visiting. Granny insisted that I should lock the back door when I came back in. Papa demanded that I NOT lock the back door, because one time he got locked out when he was working in the yard, when Granny locked all the doors before she left to go shopping. The argument kept going, forcing me to hover by the back door waiting for the final decision. Granny was crying, Papa was yelling, I was trying to mediate from my hovering position. Finally, Granny retreated to the bedroom crying & Papa stopped yelling & started muttering. I asked him, "When I'm not here, how do you two make a decision? How do you determine who is right?" He replied, "There is no right."
It sounded very wise. Kinda like the Tao. Or Yoda. It was then that I had a moment of clarity:
I am doomed. Mental illness is clearly a hereditary issue on both sides of my family, possibly for generations.
I left the door unlocked, then I later locked it when they were preoccupied watching the news at a volume level I didn't even know existed on the old gargantuan TVs. 🙉
Family arguments are such a mitzvah!
I concur. Be it money or merchandise, acquiring becomes an addiction. It's a peculiar facet of human-ness that we want more this, more that, & surplus to boot "just in case." From cradle to grave, we want, we consume, & buy into the fallacy that more of everything is always better. Babies can understand the concept of "more" before they speak.
How fortunate then that we live in a 24/7 onslaught of advertising from the all the talking, colorful, musical rectangles we stare at as soon as our eyes open, on a daily basis. Where would we be without someone yammering in our ears about what cereal is the yummiest, crunchiest, yada yada from infancy forward?
Idiotic advertising is the bane of my existence, so I am fairly adept at dismissing the siren call of "This $75 infinitesimal vial of fragrance will make you alluring, youthful, & HOT, just like this scantily clad, anorexic, pouty-lipped woman we found waitressing at Hooters!"
But. Drop me off at a craft store sale & suddenly I NEED ALL THE BEADS, YARN, PAPER, & WHATEVER THE HELL THIS THING IS, IN ALL THE COLORS!!! Cue the justification. Most of my crafty friends are hoarders & I've been admonished by my own mother for being "an organized hoarder." (But seriously who is she to talk when she has a walk-in closet full of color-coordinated pant suits?) So I console myself, rationalizing my craft-store clearance aisle addiction by scoffing at the fools hoarding toilet paper in their prepper-basements. So who am I to judge anyway?
Here's to surviving another week in Trumptopia... I'm off to assuage my stress levels by sorting big containers of beads by color, type, & size into smaller containers I ordered in bulk from the store oddly still known as Dollar Tree, despite raising its price to $1.25. Is nothing sacred?!