SHOPPING DISORDERS AND THE MALL SPIRIT - Segment 2 (scroll down for opening segment)


     My gift spoke volumes about my shopping prowess. “You must have S.A.D.,” said a family member. 
   

     “What’s S.A.D?” I asked. 

    “Shopping Anxiety Disorder,” they replied.  “Shopping creates anxiety in your life.  Trying to find a gift makes you anxious.  Trying to find the ‘perfect’ gift can cause a ‘panic attack.’”  

     This was the first time anyone had identified the malady I had been living with for years.  

      Now I understood why I found it more relaxing hunting wild boar with a stick. 

     Because of my “S.A.D.,” I’ve become extremely interested in others who struggle with shopping maladies.  They provide great writing material.  

     Not long ago I spotted an article on “RTD” (Retail Therapy Disease), commonly known as “Comfort Shopping.”  I got excited.  I had never experienced any comfort in shopping.  I thought this article might help me deal with my shopping anxieties.  Instead, the article explained the reasons some women are compulsive shoppers.  It also suggested a possible cure.

     

     Not long after I read the article, I received a call from my friend, Fred.  His wife had just been diagnosed with “RTD.”  She was apparently exposed through contact with her daughter-in-law.  The doctor said she had a highly aggressive form of “comfort shopping,” although Fred didn’t find much comfort in it.  There was the possibility it might not be curable. 

    

     “I should have suspected a problem at Christmas, when she asked for a personalized shopping cart with her name engraved on the handle,” moaned Fred.  “Now it seems like they spend every moment together,” he went on.

      I felt terrible for Fred; losing his wife’s love to a shopping cart.

     Apparently, women deal with their stresses by shopping.  They comfort shop when they’re anxious, when work is going badly, when they’re fighting with their spouse, or when they’re concerned about the drought in southern Chile. 

     “That explains why she’s been unable to sleep at night, “said Fred, excitedly.  “She’s been concerned about the drought in southern Chile.”

     “Are you sure your wife isn’t under duress because she thought she married you, but discovered too late that she had really married soccer…baseball…football…and assorted other sports?” 

   

     “No, I’m sure it’s the drought,” answered Fred. 

    

     I told him about the article and explained that help was available.  “Scientists have discovered a drug that may curb her compulsive desire to shop,” I said.  “They’ve tried the drug on seven patients and all seven have shown a dramatic reduction in the urge to shop.” 

    

     “It must have caused paralysis,” answered Fred, with a hint of skepticism. 

     “No, I’m serious,” I continued.


To be continued...check back soon

   

SHOPPING DISORDERS AND THE MALL SPIRIT - Opening segment
     

     Time is an odd thing.  When you’re young, you almost have to push it along.   This is especially true if you’re waiting for a dog to magically appear on your doorstep, math to become extinct, or Christmas to arrive before you run out of “good.”  When you’re older, time goes by so fast it spins you around like a top.   This is why older people have problems with vertigo; time is passing too fast.

     When I was a kid I had to wait several years for Christmas.  Now it comes, at least, two or three times a year, sometimes four.  I’m convinced this is due to the earth slipping off its axis, although my wife insists that I’m the one who has slipped off his axis as I’ve been spinning out of control for some time. 

     It’s back AGAIN!  I’m still digesting my Thanksgiving dinner, and here is Christmas, staring me in the face---I would recognize that stare anywhere.  I can feel my anxiety awakening from its pre-Christmas slumber.  By the time I run out the door to do my last minute shopping, it’s in full-blown attack mode.  I call it the Christmas body slam.  

     And so it was…and always will be.  While all the relatives had gathered at my in-laws for a festive evening and gift exchange, I was searching frantically for that special, unforgettable gift.  It was an exercise in futility.  “I’m sorry,” said the clerk.  “You just missed our perfect last-minute gift sale.”  I stopped exercising long enough to catch my breath, but it fled before I could catch it.  My anxiety level was bubbling at peak capacity.  As I was considering my “panic” options, I spotted a gift.  Not the perfect gift, but a gift.  I purchased the gift and rushed back to the house, arriving in a dead heat with Santa, just before gifts were exchanged. 

     We all took turns opening our presents.  When my wife opened her present, everyone looked on in disbelief, before someone asked, “Is that a gift card for a root canal?”  

 

      Okay, maybe it wasn’t so special, but it was certainly unforgettable. 

To be continued...check back soon

   


     

LET'S PRETEND - Final Segment (Scroll down for earlier segments)


     Unless you get gene therapy, don’t try to be someone you’re not.  Be yourself.  Concentrate on your strengths.  If it’s Alternative Order, be the best. 

    Our son would always leave his clothes on the floor.  Some had been there so long my wife considered using them for mulch.  Before she started spreading them around the garden, she thought she would sneak a little organization into his life.  She brought in Mr. Closet Organizer.  It failed miserably.  He took one look at Justin’s room and suggested we tear out the closet so Justin would have MORE room on the floor for his clothes.  After giving it some thought, I agreed.  I hate looking under clothes on the floor for a shirt, when the shirt is hanging in a closet.  I also wanted to spread several sweaty t-shirts around the garden.   I figured it would drive the weeds further south.   

    I love to watch people pretend; attempting organization when their world is Alternative Order.  Seeing them in action is not a pretty sight.  If they think you’re stopping by their house for a visit, they fly into action: flinging, stuffing, piling, throwing, and sweeping.  By the time you arrive, they have swept so much under the rug, their living room looks like a national landmark.  “Oh, the ‘Indian Mounds,’” you marvel.  “I didn’t realize they were so close.”

    It’s dangerous to pretend in the area of organization.  Remember, it has taken you years to get where you are.  It would take a revolution, not a resolution, to get organized.  Then you wouldn’t be happy; no hardhat area for falling boxes; no newspaper avalanche control; no narrow pathways to circumnavigate.  And look how long it takes you to find something.  It takes time and effort.

     On the other hand, the organized person is really quite lazy.  They don’t want to take the time to look.  They will go right to a tool or important paper, completely shirking the work of an extended and lengthy search.  Is that what you want for your life?

    I think there should be a seminar on “How to Achieve Optimum Chaos, I mean Alternative Order, in your Life.”  I would be more than willing to teach the class, if I could find my notes.  I know they’re here somewhere.  Let me check my pockets.

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