The End of My Shopping Addiction

 

Anyone who has admitted to having an addiction of any kind, or who knows someone who has one, probably is aware of several ways to cure these. Food addictions come quickly to mind for me. Chocolate! Ice Cream! Cheese puffs! I could go on, but I won’t.

 

Anyhow, there are two frequently used ways to deal with these. One is cold turkey. You make up your mind you’re not going to imbibe any more and you stop just like that. Sounds easy enough, but in reality, cold turkey is one of the most difficult ways to purge yourself of an unwanted behavior. You need to have a very strong will and be extremely disciplined. Although many of you may see me that way, when it comes to things I love to eat or do, my willpower is MIA.

 

The second method sometimes employed can often be effective with food. That’s the overstuff approach. In theory, you just eat so much of the food you want to avoid and in such a short period of time that you never want to look at it again, much less ingest it. I can’t imagine ever reaching that point with chocolate. When I was growing up, parents sometimes used this method to cure little kids of a sugar habit and teenagers of smoking or drinking beer. I doubt that would work anymore, especially since savvy teens would claim bad parenting and sue for emotional trauma.

 

Then there’s always the path of professional help with your problem. I’ll include support networks under this umbrella. That type of help is undoubtedly best for serious addictions that involve substance abuse. If you don’t have adequate insurance, you can probably forget having a therapist talk you out of your wayward behavior. That’s not likely to happen in just a few sessions. Hypnosis helps some folks control unwanted habits. Support groups are great for a lot of these, and they’re everywhere now. There are also meds and therapeutics, like transdermal patches to help kick smoking.

 

The addiction that prompted me to write this column was none of the above. I was a shopaholic. I worked in Manhattan for over 20 years, most of that time within 2 blocks of Saks Fifth Avenue’s flagship store. I remember going to their shoe department at lunch one day and returning with five pairs of heels. That’s right… five. Two each of two styles and one of a third. I can still picture them. Mary Jane style patent leather heels in black and in red. Smooth leather heels with cross straps across the instep in yellow and also in white. I almost bought the hot pink ones, too, but then the lime green ones would have wondered what was wrong with them. The fifth pair was a classic navy t-strap.

 

My idea of entertainment was to wander the aisles in just about any interesting store, ogling and sometimes fondling the merchandise. I’d even tidy up the racks. And by interesting, I mean just about anything. My father used to get lost in the tool department in Sears. That didn’t hold any attraction for me, but some other specialized places did. In recent years, I became addicted to Home Goods. I’d look through their clearance sections first. It wouldn’t matter if I needed an item or not. It might be a good gift for someone, and I certainly didn’t have to know who would wind up with it. I still have shelves of these “finds” in our basement.

 

Well, I’m pleased to report that one of the few bright spots of this COVID pandemic is that I’m finally cured of my shopping addiction. The specialty pet store where I get cat food is in the same strip mall as a Marshalls/Home Goods store. I sometimes look up the sidewalk to their building, just to see if there’s a six-feet distancing line outside. But I’m not even remotely tempted to go in. Nothing I could find there now is worth the risk of exposing myself to COVID.

 

It probably helps that I’m at that stage of life where I should be getting rid of things in our household and not adding to it. But I’ve been at that stage for several years, and it never kept me out of Home Goods until now. No. It’s definitely the pandemic that has put an end to my shopping addiction. I guess every cloud does have a silver lining.

 

Copyright 2020 Business Theatre Unlimited

Grocery Shopping During COVID-19

Going out to a supermarket is an act of bravery during the COVID-19 pandemic. I go about once a week with a grocery list that I’m sure is going to tide us over for at least two weeks. It never does. It’s not that we eat a lot. Certain things that we’re almost out of just aren’t on the shelf the day I go shopping.

I wear a mask and bring along my Lysol wipes, but those widely publicized precautions barely scratch the surface of the challenges that grocery shopping presents these days. I realized that as I replied to a comment someone made on Facebook.

The posting complained that Governor Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan had just declared that stores of more than 50,000 sq. ft. could have only four customers at a time per 1000 sq. ft. He said that results in social distancing of about 15 ft. instead of the federal guideline of 6 ft. Here’s my reply (based on experience two days earlier):

I'd rather allow extra room. The only way a 6 ft. rule would work is if everyone shopped and moved along at the same pace. Else they'd be closer than 6 ft. part of the time. Even with a shopping list, I find myself backtracking and mulling over the stock, trying to decide what to pick up. Shelves are so bare that I'm often forced to substitute. Like, do I want to pay more for a national brand of chicken broth to get no-salt? Or do I want to go with lower price and have to get beef broth, with salt (or various permutations there-of). And that was one of my easier decisions this week. Would you want to be the shopper stuck 6 feet behind me?

The 15 ft. rule would be especially helpful in stores that now have made their narrow aisles one-way. Those are a nightmare for me. The overhead signs never seem to list all the categories. First I roll my cart to the end of the aisle to find a variety of canned beans for chili. As I’m ticking them off my list, I see that I also need canned tuna. More often than not that’s at the other end of the same aisle, but I didn’t notice it when I wheeled by. In a store with one-way aisles, I'd have to go one aisle over and backtrack to the beginning of the aisle with the tuna and beans.

It's not any easier in the cat food aisle, especially if you're shopping for one finicky senior and two who will eat anything. Add to that the fact that the store staff sometimes mix the Fancy Feast chicken paté in with the beef and chicken paté. Both have red labels, one slightly darker. My finicky girl eats beef and chicken, but she’s not as keen on plain chicken. They also sometimes mix flaked salmon in with the salmon paté. Paté is  a safer bet for older cats. I could go on, but I see that your eyes are glazing over.

My recent trip tried my patience. A man was blocking the door of the main egg case, trying to decide which ones to buy. His female companion, behind him on her phone, was providing no guidance. I stood 6 feet away for a few minutes and finally just took a more expensive carton from the neighboring case.

As if shopping for our normal groceries isn’t challenge enough these days, being sequestered at home has led to binge eating comfort food. I rarely bought potato chips before. Now it’s on the list every time I go shopping. Have you ever noticed how long the chips aisle is? Lays sells classic chips and originals (what’s the difference??), honey barbecue and barbecue (?? again), salt & vinegar and sour cream & onion. Supposedly there are over 160 varieties of Lays chips. It’s no wonder I get confused in that aisle. And I haven’t even touched on corn chips.

Fortunately for me, we prefer original types, like Cape Cod kettle cooked. But even that brand comes in multiple flavors. In most stores, chips are stocked by brand, but some have the larger bags are at one end and smaller ones at the other. More often than not, I temporarily abandon my cart and walk up and down trying to figure out what's on sale that's binge-worthy.

The cookie aisle isn’t much easier to navigate and the transition from cookies to crackers is not always easy to follow. More back tracking. It should come as no surprise that grocery shopping during COVID-19 is so stressful that my cart has a lot more binge-worthy products than I had on my list when I left the house. At times like these, it’s critical to have a variety of comfort food on hand to survive each day’s news.

Copyright 2020 Business Theatre Unlimited

Retirement Limbo Land

When our house didn’t sell in two real estate seasons of trying, we decided to give it a rest for a year. We’re also doing some updates to our kitchen, the planning for which has become close to a full time job for me. In the meantime, we’re trying to keep it “staged” in case our agent has a buyer she feels will be interested in the property. And yes, it’s happened once already.

The market is hot in Providence, in the sense that there’s a shortage of inventory and even big houses are turning quite quickly, sometimes even with multiple offers. But the prices haven’t advanced much since last year and people still want a “done” house. Hence the need for our kitchen updates.

The failure to launch our retirement move has been a good thing for my husband. He’s about two years behind the original schedule for closing the wholesale portion of his business and getting out of his warehouse. As I roll into my third year of pseudo-retirement, I find myself in “Retirement Limbo Land.” That’s where your income is retired, but your expenses aren’t. And the way you spend your time is between a rock (full-time employment) and the proverbial hard place (your idea of retirement bliss).

Yes, I finished and published three books in the first two years after leaving my full-time job. I’m still blogging weekly and I have the idea for and the beginnings of my fourth book. But I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy about spending my retirement just writing. This is in part because my office is in our windowless basement. I need ambient light to be energized.

I’m thinking about getting an IPad so I can write in one of our sunny rooms (since I’m still paying real estate taxes on them). But then I’ll need WiFi service, or at least a wireless router in my basement. (Maybe these are one and the same; I don’t know.) This apparently involves upgrading from DSL and/or paying extra for having access from more than one computer. It seems crazy to go through all of that when we’re going to be here for just another year or so. (God willing and the cricks don’t rise…)

This is just one aspect of Retirement Limbo Land. Here’s another that will make you sad. As part of the house staging, I boxed up our photos, including those of the cats. I kept one photo of Pansy out, since we sent her to the Rainbow Bridge shortly before I retired. The rest were put into a box carefully labeled “Keep.” Last October, we lost Lily. I have no photo of her near my desk because the “Keep” boxes were all stored behind the “Sell” and “Donate” ones, and I haven’t been able to turn up the photo box.

Ditto for my high school and college yearbooks. When someone from my past wants to reconnect via Facebook, I can’t cheat my way into “remembering” them by looking up their yearbook picture.

There’s a similar sob story behind my sewing and craft supplies. I could really use that packet of felt to reinforce the holes in my favorite jeans. And the iron-on tape to fix the lining inseams on my linen pants that are fraying. I can’t properly repair my husband’s sweaters without a crochet hook to re-knit the stitches that got snagged and created a ladder down the front. I refuse to go out and buy new supplies when I know I have them somewhere. Besides, the plan is to downsize, not augment.

I have many other examples of things I’ve stashed away that I’d like to be able to put my hands on, but won’t be able to until I’m out of Retirement Limbo Land. It leaves me unhappy and frustrated. And annoyingly out of control.

I have similar feelings about finding alternate ways to spend my time. I’ll probably get involved in some volunteer work when we settle into our new, downsized location. I’m disinclined to do it now. Why invest emotionally in something I’ll be leaving soon? Not to mention our one-car situation. If I take the car so I can volunteer for a few hours, that leaves the rest of the day to get into trouble. By that I mean go shopping. Again, the goal is to downsize. And the budget doesn’t allow shopping.

Except for wine, but I can walk to my favorite wine store. That has added benefits. I get some exercise, and I don’t buy more than two or three bottles at a time, so they’re not too heavy to carry home. Of course, if one has a screw top, I could always drink some of it on the way, to lighten the load. Just kidding. Then again…

Retirement Tips — Holiday Gifts for Retirees

Very few retirees are looking to add to their encumbrances. Chances are, they went through a downsizing as part of their retirement process. This can make it difficult to select holiday gifts for them. Here are some helpful guidelines.

If it needs to be laundered, dry cleaned, dusted or vacuumed, forget it. That means no clothing and no knick knacks. In the interest of avoiding inventory buildup, it also means no accessories and no appliances.

I know what you’re thinking: a man can always use another tie/pair of warm gloves/wool muffler. Not true. Nor is it true that a woman can always use another silk scarf/holiday scatter pin/pair of trouser socks.

There are some dirty little secrets that often come to light only when people start rooting around in the backs of closets and bottoms of drawers. (In other words, when they downsize.) Men tend to wear the same three ties over and over. No matter how fabulous the pattern is on that Gianni Versace cravat you found on super sale, it’s likely to get spun to the back of the tie rack within a year of gifting.

Remember the soft-as-butter leather gloves with oh-so-warm rabbit fur lining? They’re now under three spare sets of thermal underwear in a bottom dresser drawer. Those wool mufflers you’ve gifted ever third year or so? Food for the moths that have discovered the shopping bag in the back of the used-to-be-cedar closet. You know the bag I mean: the one with scarves, mittens, gloves (many in half pairs) and maybe an occasional earmuff or polar fleece headband.

How about that church bazaar last summer where you saw the snowman pin exactly like the one you gave your funky Aunt Tilly a few years back? Guess what: it was the one you gave Aunt Tilly. Turns out she’s not as funky as she was in her thirties. Ditto for the Gucci-wannabe and almost-Liberty-of-London scarves you gave Aunt Elvira. You’re right that she’s obsessively label-conscious, but she can also sniff out a fake faster than you can say “knock-off.”

In selecting gifts for retirees, think “consumables.” If you can eat it or drink it, you have a winner. Likewise if you can spray it or slather it. (We’re talking personal care products now, not sex aids or stuff you use to detail your car.)

When it comes to food, unless you’re intimately familiar with the recipient’s tastes, it’s best to avoid exotic items like pickled eggs and blowfish caviar. As for alcohol, you can also skip the caipirinha; everyone knows you’ve never been to Brazil.

If you can deliver it yourself, ice cream is a great gift for retirees. You’ll want to select an appropriate flavor, of course. To that end, refer to the RetirementSparks post of July 16, 2011. We especially recommend Bananayama, Oatmeal Delight or Prune Whip.

If you want to give something unusual in the alcohol realm, put together the fixings for a Mojito and pair it with one of Papa Hemingway’s books. (Mojitos were supposedly his fave.) Another good choice would be grenadine; pomegranates are the new healthy fruit. Be sure to include the recipe for a Tequila Sunrise and put in a copy of the Eagles Desperado CD—the song is on it.

As for products that get applied to the body, soothing creams and lotions are good choices. Stay away from Ben Gay, Gold Bond and anything that has ever been featured in the circular for a national drug store chain. Instead, buy something that one of your neighborhood artisans cooks up at home in her garage or bathtub. Remember: you help the economy when you buy local.

Think broadly about how we consume things. Your shopping list can include books, CDs and DVDs. Pair these creatively with other items. As mentioned above, combine them with food or drink around an appropriate theme.

Subscriptions are also something consumable, but make them unexpected. Instead of Aging Well, give Travel & Leisure. Never mind if they can’t afford to take any trips; in fact, all the better. If there’s one thing retirees are good at, it’s vicarious living.

Movie tickets are another smart idea, but don’t go for those packages that include popcorn and a large drink. Retirees and soda pop make a bad combination in a theatre, especially if the movie is longer than one hour.

This list should give you plenty of great ideas for holiday gifts for retirees. If you’re a last minute shopper, it could be a lifesaver. You can thank me after the New Year. Just don’t give me anything I’ll have to dust.