Caveat emptor

I have the worst shopping anxiety of anyone I know. Not that I don't enjoy the prospect of getting new things, particularly when it involves getting pretty things. But it honestly doesn't matter if I spend $100 in one sitting, or $10, I still feel like a wreck after it's all over, unless I just spent either of those amounts on food. Food is a different story altogether.

But let's take today, for example. I told myself that I needed (*needed*) to get a haircut before school starts, since I will be doing placements starting in November, and I want to look professional before then. I also bought two shirts that look placement-friendly, and an accessory to make the shirts more casual-friendly when needed. I bought a few wooden rings and a metal ring with which I want to crochet a belt. My total spent cash for today rings up to about $104.

For someone who doesn't make a ton of money to begin with, even these purchases (and the desperately-needed haircut, since I looked vaguely like if Cousin It actually had a face) make me feel slightly sick to my stomach. It doesn't matter if the shirts are amazing, or if the bangles I bought are going to kick ass, or if the wooden rings gave me the best idea for a handmade belt that will really personalize my looks.

None of that matters, because right now, I am too caught up in the idea that I just spent money.

I do look pretty fabulous, though.

I've always been wary of money in general. S is my rock, and he is also basically my financial backer until I get OSAP in a few weeks. Whenever we get takeout (which is a lot - neither of us are exactly fantastic in the kitchen), I always feel a deep sense of guilt, even over something as trifling as McDonalds. He always tells me to forget about it, since the money is not his, but ours.

Frankly, that just makes me feel worse.

I've also never been particularly well-off. My family has never really been left wanting, but frivolous expenses were practically out of the question. There might be some residual childhood guilt that comes up when I go shopping. That can't be healthy.

Side note: I'm pretty sure a chunk of this guilt is also related to something I did a couple days ago. I went on a voyage to deposit a cheque I received a LONG time ago (I blame laziness and the heat), and as I crossed the bridge before my bank of choice, I saw a group of people who looked a little out of place. The neighbourhood my bank is in is all condos, all the time. It's a fairly well-off area, and this prime real estate is also extremely close to a few major public areas of interest. While this city has a lot of homeless people, they don't generally tend to hang around here.

I honestly don't know if this group of people were indeed homeless, but they did have a sign - "Any spare money or food would be appreciated."

It might have been the weather, or how the stars were aligned the night previous, but I decided to round the corner to the nearby Sobey's, purchase about $20 worth of Gatorade, granola bars and fruit snacks, and return to the group with a simple "these are for you" before I toddled off quickly to reflect on my impulse purchase. I don't intend for this entry or any part of the blog as a whole to turn into some kind of preachy environment, or into a place where I brag about my random acts of randomness/kindness, but what I did made me think a little. I only spent $20, and I probably helped feed that little group for a little while...it's certainly not the most wholesome of meals, but it was portable, and hopefully delicious. And maybe memorable, I don't know.

I felt a double-edged sword of guilt as I walked home. For one, I had just spent money - something of which I am not a particular fan in the first place. But on the other hand, I only reached out to those less fortunate than me today. And maybe I should be grateful for the resources I do have, and a little less selfishly concerned about my cashflow.

In the meantime, it is probably healthier for me to try and just remember that the money is already spent, that it's better if I keep the clothes instead of wishing I returned them as soon as I left the store, and that I can always count my blessings using a currency that is a little more important than cash alone.