Retail therapy

Sigh. It's been kind of a blah day.

Actually, it's been kind of a blah past few weeks, but I'm fighting through it and trying to brace myself for a few difficult weeks ahead on the calendar. Like the Zicam I've been obsessivly using to wage war against any cold germs from the kids, I've been finding little ways to try to keep my spirits up.

Unfortunately, those ways are largely comprised of retail therapy.... yep, that's right. Cha-ching cha-ching.

Pretty sure it all started when I was handed a few gift cards for my birthday and I immediately went and blew them, going way past my total allotted amount and literally having to hand items back to the cashier so I could afford what I bought. Ouch.

From there it's been downhill.

Honestly, I know better. I keep telling myself... "happiness is only circumstantial"... "this isn't healthy"... or my personal favorite "stupid, stupid, stupid!" But the scientists are right, folks. There's a real chemical thing going on with shopping therapy. Dopamines and all.

This evening, I was quite honestly close to going crazy in my head. Hilton not so subtlely asked if there was anywhere I might need to go. There wasn't, but that wasn't going to stop me. So I left.

And like a magnet, I drove to the one place that I knew was more sad and down and depressed than I was.

That's right. The Sad Mall.

Can't remember if I've mentioned The Sad Mall in any past blogs, but in case not, here's a rundown: it's comprised of about 45 stores, 35 vacant and 10 in business but just barely. It's little store map when you come in is just about the most pathetic thing you've ever seen. It might as well say "just go home, nothing here to see." The food court on average has one restaurant open (tonight, the pizza parlor had a sign up that said "CLOSED DUE TO ILLNESS"). Besides Sears, the biggest store is a bridal/prom gown place. There's a video arcade that the boys used to love until the Simpson's bowling game was replaced with another deer hunting shooting game. Where a nice Bath and Body Works store was, there's now a super creepy doll baby boutique, complete with a crib full of Hispanic babydolls in its front window. And now they are apparently teaching free Zumba classes in one of the stores three mornings a week.... as a Zumba lover, I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. When you walk in any of the few stores still open, not a single employee head turns your way. They've given up hope.

So I wasn't really sure what my plan was when I pulled up to the mall while on the phone with a friend who mercifully had answered her phone when I called. Okay, that's a lie. I totally knew why I was there. To buy something, of course.

One Yankee candle later, I came out and realized I felt a lot better. But this time, I think it was only partly due to the purchase.

Mainly, though, I think it was because I had been someplace that was more down than I was. Misery really does love company.

Sorry, Sad Mall.

(p.s. To those who are worried about my mental state... acknowledgement is the first step in recovery....)