At the core of my being is an 87-year-old woman who can’t bear to part with money. I am notoriously cheap and even the smallest purchases bring about severe indecision and regret. Here is a perfect example.
Three years ago, when I moved to Washington, I made it my first duty to visit Snoqualmie Falls. I am a huge David Lynch fan and the falls is featured heavily in the Twin Peaks series. The Salish Lodge above the falls is the site of the Great Northern Hotel (if you’ve seen the show, you know how big a deal this is).
Though not featured in the show (thank goodness), there is also a fantastic gift shop that is full of the sort of crap I would happily buy if my cheapness weren’t so crippling. There are weird, rustic ornaments, creepy wooden slugs and owls, tacky t-shirts, and tons of kitsch. My favorite thing was a horribly overpriced, stuffed sockeye salmon. I wanted it. Badly.
Of course, I didn’t buy it. Instead, I obsessed about it for three years. At least annually, I’d go back to visit the falls gift shop, only to decide again that $28 for a stuffed salmon toy with no utilitarian purpose was obscene. After all, that’s 20 pounds of dog food, an electric bill, or nearly three co-pays for doctor visits. How could I possibly spend $28 on a stuffed salmon toy? I’m a grown woman! I have grownup responsibilities!
So, for three years, I’d casually lament not buying the salmon…until a month ago, when I drove all the way out to Snoqualmie Falls and bought that salmon! Three cheers for me! I absolutely love it. It’s on my fireplace, which has never really held an actual fire since I’m a neat-freak and don’t want the mess. It’s fiery red and fantastic, and it’s inspired me to be less of a weirdo about money. I know I’ll never be one of those loosey-goosey women who drop a few hundred bucks on flashy shoes they’ll wear once. But, I could be the sort of woman who drops a cool $30 on an unnecessary, but wholly beloved, item at least once a year without fear of financial collapse.
After all, a stuffed sockeye salmon is just too awesome to pass up. Now, if I could only convince myself to buy the wacky owl tote bag I saw online…Sigh, baby steps. That bag is $65! I may need four years to ease into that. Okay, five. Six, tops.