So what does that make me? Am I addicted to the sound of squeaky shopping cart wheels, the sight of shelves neatly lined with goods of every shape and size, the smell of the ink on the register receipts? Am I, in fact, a shopaholic?
Or am I someone who can simply acknowledge that shopping helps me relax, destress and, well, be happier than I was when I first pulled into the parking lot?
I think the answer might be somewhere in between. I can go weeks without a shopping spree, but must get my basics – groceries, for example, every week. And if I have a set strategy for my weekly outing, where’s the harm?
Is it so wrong to be looking forward to my next trip to the outlet mall in Waterloo? I don’t think so. Am I addicted to hunting for bargains? Perhaps, but I can’t help but think that isn’t a bad thing.
I can’t help but think it might be something in my genes; my mother enjoys shopping as much as I do. I can remember shopping with her, as I do with my children. I think they will probably pass that down to their children, as well. And thus, the economy will flourish, thanks to the Wing family.
You can thank me later.
Jennifer Wing is managing editor at Eagle Newspapers and editor of Excellence. She can be reached at email@example.com