Shopper’s Remorse or Bad Timing

I hung up the phone and a sharp pang ripped straight through my gut. The vintage typewriter that looked so smart on my desk seemed to grow in size and the keys began to type out the words in thin air, you shouldn’t have bought me. I shook my head, blinked my eyes and paid no mind to the strange illusion. The ring of keys that looked so stylish on the bathroom doorknob began to rattle like old bones. I stared the keys down, refusing to give in to the onslaught of guilt that was trying to take hold of me. The little soaps and sample lotions that I took from the overpriced hotel mocked me as dollar signs swirled around the bathroom.

I finally succumbed to the dreaded “shopper’s remorse.” I ran my hands over the new antique mirror that hung perfectly over my dresser. I dare not look at my image for fear that I had grown two heads. And for the first time, I admitted, “I shouldn’t have bought this stuff.” The words left a bitter taste in my mouth.  

I am lucky that I have the money that I reluctantly will pay, to get my car fixed. I am also lucky that I have several pair of shoes that I have yet to wear, a few pieces with the price tags still on them and the support of my friends, who too, have suffered from “shopper’s remorse.” It’s a dreaded ailment and hopefully with some recovery time, I will never have to see it rear its ugly head at me again. And then I stood up and shook it off. “By God, “I exclaimed. “It’s not shopper’s remorse, it’s just bad timing!” and with that I put on my new pair of walking shoes and headed down to the coffee shop to indulge in a latte and scone, that will bring on an entirely new remorse that I’ll tell you about some other day. And as the saying goes, denial is a river in Egypt.