There’s truly nothing quite like the dopamine rush I get when I go shopping. It’s as if my brain suddenly decides *this* is the moment to break out the confetti and celebrate—as though I’ve just discovered the cure for boredom in the form of a shiny new jacket or a gadget I’ll use exactly once. I spot something glorious, and for a fleeting second, I’m the star of my own movie montage, twirling through the aisles with purpose and poise.
But wait—here comes the plot twist: The rare time that I actually DON’T buy what I have spotted. Maybe I’m feeling responsible, or maybe my bank account gently (or, let’s be honest, aggressively) reminds me that “fun” is not in the budget. I congratulate myself on this rare display of willpower, certain I’ll forget about that item the moment I leave.
Spoiler alert: I absolutely do not. Instead, I become a professional piner. Days, weeks, even years later, I will randomly recall that gloriously unnecessary thing I didn’t buy. I reminisce like it was a lost love, crafting a Shakespearean tragedy in my head. “Alas, poor coffee mug shaped like a unicorn, I knew thee well… for five minutes.” I imagine it living its best life on someone else’s shelf, while I’m stuck here with my boring, practical choices.
So yes, shopping for me is less of a leisure activity and more of an Olympic sport in regret and self-mockery. The dopamine hit? Gone in a flash. The melodramatic longing for what could have been? Oh, that sticks around, just to remind me that I’m both a master window-shopper and a world-class overthinker. Bravo, me. Bravo
The fact that I DID NOT walk away with this beauty on Friday at the Norquay Co-op astonishes me. The worst part, my husband said, “That would have looked perfect right there by the stairs!” (He NEVER says something like that!) And both of my kiddos lamented that I did not bring home the 5 foot tall candy cane light! Sigh, good thing I’ll be back in Norquay in December to make a donation. Hopefully it’s still there.
@gx94radio
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