Tuesday, December 6, 2011

I should never have memorized my debit card number

As usual, the Christmas season has descended upon our lovely country producing a capitalist fervor the likes of which only a well planned Black Friday campaign can incite.

And while I know that the true meaning of Christmas has everything to do with the first part of that word and oh, nothing, to do with Kohls having a 110% off sale on clearance, I admit, I sometimes lose my mind over those pretty red sale signs.

This year, in particular, I seem to be on some sort of strange kick where my hand becomes detached from my body. . .and budget loving brain.

Throw on some Mariah Carey and stick a frosted Christmas cookie in my hand and I'm off. Hand made chocolate marshmallow soap for 50% off? Sure, why not. Who doesn't want to smell like a hand baked s'more on the T?

And every time Mariah croons that classic chorus line, there my hand goes. 
"All I want for Christmas is youuuu"
click, clickity click.

And since you can't really buy strapping men online for 50% off (that I know of), the "youuuuu"  might as well be those heather gray TOMS with the laces. Come on! Free Shipping!

I think I've realized the problem and have nipped it in the bud (mostly) but it sort of makes me sad to think how easy it is to become such a crazed Christmas consumer.

Because really, Mariah Carey, what I really want for Christmas is for my bank account to be above zero come December 26th. Thanks.


(did I mention the lip tint was 50% off too. . .)

products from Orange Thyme

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