The big adventure of yesterday was my periodic excursion to Costco. Some women? They spend a day at the spa, or wander the aisles at Bloomingdales. For me, the true extravagance in life comes from looking at 5 gallon cans of tomato sauce and industrial-sized packs of underwear.
I never leave that store without being at least a hundred bucks poorer, and utterly confused about where the money went. Case in point: My primary purchases yesterday were a 40 pound bag of Cat Litter (you're welcome, honey!), a few bags of frozen necessities (you know, health foods like potstickers and chicken nuggets), diapers, baby wipes, and jumbo-sized packages of paper towels and toilet paper.
I know the size of the items, the sheer quantity, is massive in scale compared to what I would be getting if I purchased the same items at the grocery store. And yet that total on the receipt still boggles me. And, being prone to oversimplification as I am, I can't help but boil it down to one simple question for my self.
How the hell did I spend a hundred and fifty bucks on toilet paper??
Unrelated Aside: The caterpillar is gone. I no longer have to fear waking in the night to find I am in bed with Morgan Spurlock. He did keep the pointy sideburns, but only because I insisted. They're right sexy, those are.
1 comment:
I go to Sam's Club very rarely, and only when I know I have at least $150 to blow. That seems to be the magic "minimum" number, though the average hovers around $200. I don't get it.
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