Mrs. F#$@ing Rockefeller

What is it about being unemployed that makes a girl want to shop? One friend says it's all the time on my hands. That's possible. When I was working, full-time, all the way out in the the suburbs of Ballard, I had no time to go shopping. All the stores in Ballard close at 6.00 p.m. and I wasn't usually finished with work much before then. If I was, I was on a mission to get to yoga by six, so would quickly by-pass any interesting shops, head straight home to change and run to my class ready for Zen mode. Now I go to yoga at noon. I've got the whole day to myself.

Getting downtown during the past ten months was actually quite rare. Weekends were packed with other activities and shopping was never on the top of the list. I don't even like shopping. I'm not one of those woman who craves the latest fashions. I don't need retail therapy to get me through a rough day. I'm actually a bit of a cheapskate and find it difficult to part with my hard-earned meager funds. My usual MO is to walk around the store with an item I actually do need and then put it back on the rack and walk out empty handed because I talk myself out of needing it at all. At least for the moment.

So what is going on with me recently? I seem to be spending money like I'm Mrs. F#$@ing Rockefeller. That is, spending money like I have it! First, I book a trip to Vietnam just before quitting my job. Then while job hunting, I book a flight to San Diego to visit friends. As if that isn't enough spending, lately I keep finding myself in downtown shops 'browsing.' What am I doing in these shops at all? My shops are Crossroads Trading Post, Goodwill, Value Village and Take 2 Consignment, not my old haunts of Ann Taylor and Banana Republic. Haunts I visited back in the day, when I was a corporate climber, working for the man, earning the corporate dollar. No, the new me does not patronize these shops any longer. So why, pray tell, am I in there today? The sales got to me! A top for $14.00 and jeans (that fit perfectly!) for $40 at Ann Taylor Loft. How could I say no? I couldn't. I didn't. And I didn't stop there. I sauntered over to BR just to look at jackets. I just wanted to look. Maybe try one or two on. That's all. Nothing more. But once in there, I found one on sale that fit perfectly. I couldn't force myself to put it back on the rack. As I was leaving the store (with an application for employment in my bag) a co-unemployed friend called to see if I wanted to meet for happy hour. You bet. Why stop now? I'm Mrs. F#$@ing Rockefeller today.