They say the first step to recovery is admitting that you are powerless over whatever it is you are addicted to.
So there was my first step. Admission.
That’s as far as it’s going. I get a certain sick pleasure out of the program. It’s perfect for a shopaholic.
See it’s a cycle. I go on one of my shopping missions and come home with a few too many bags of new things. So then knowing that I might need to defuse the possible anger of the Spousal Unit, I do a quick clean out of the closet and in the next 24 hours post some things on Ebay. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I used to love going antiquing, to estate sales and yard sales. I hardly go anymore because you can do the same thing at 3:00am in your PJ’s in front of your computer. Who wants to deal with smelly vendors and dirt? Things are so much easier online. I do miss the actual browsing process and the tangiable search. The really sick thing is the last time I walked into an antique store I looked at the prices and said to myself, “I know I can get that cheaper on Ebay.”
- You find yourself searching eBay auctions for milk, eggs and bread.
- When your husband agrees to have sex with you, you become suspicious and ask how many other bidders there were.
- After a particularly passionate night, you lean over and whisper in your spouse’s ear, “Excellent service, great communication! Would recommend again! AAAA++++”
- You set your alarm clock for 3 am so you can log on to protect your bid.
- You’ve questioned your sanity because of the price you’ve bid… more than once.
- You’ve purposely run up the bid on something similar for which you paid more.
- You’ve rolled your eyes at the word “antique” or “vintage” used on something made in the past decade.
- You’ve emailed a seller to correct their description with accurate dates or details.
- You’ve come to rely on “convenience cash” from PayPal and wish you could pay all your bills like that.
- You’ve earned a “Shooting Star” Feedback Profile for more than 10,000 purchases!