< img src =https://www.thebillfold.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/36867606212_fd4f877474_k-600x408.jpg alt width=600 height=408 > I simply invested $200 and I’m so tired that I’m frustrated. I’m so tired by what I invested money on that I am going to tell you about it.First, at Amazon
, I invested $161 on:6 packs
- of Amazon Essential infant wipes ($12)
- 40 feline litter pads (for our Breeze cat litter “system”) ($23)
- 6 packages of feline litter pellets (also for the system) ($40)
- 60 rolls of toilet tissue ($26)
- 22 pounds of feline food ($28)
- 8 big rolls of paper towels ($21)
- A paperback book as part of my partner’s birthday present ($11)
And after that, at Target.com, I spent $40 on:1 tub of
- Target brand name child formula ($21)
- 1 tub of Carol’s Daughter Hair Milk ($12)
- Various plastic kids/picnic plates ($7)
All of this is a) stuff we need, b) things that is annoying to purchase at the shop due to the fact that it’s heavy or large, and c) things that will last us a very long time, d) things I can’t get away with not buying.
(Okay, we don’t truly require the plastic plates, however I have actually one divided plate from this set that I bought on an impulse, and I use all of it the time, and I make sure that by the time I want more to match Target will not sell this series any longer, and they were 59 cents a plate, so I purchased three more of the divided plates, 4 plain plates, and four bowls. Also, when the most frivolous part of an order is the most inexpensive, cutting it out doesn’t do much for cost savings.)
Still, $200 is a lot of cash, and when I invest that money I want it to be exciting. I want new clothing, or a great dinner out, or an airplane ticket to somewhere excellent. I want a new backpack! An Airbnb cabin in the woods for a weekend! An entry to a marathon! A contribution to an abortion fund! A faux-retro Vornado air circulator! Nani Iro fabric to sew a new dress! High-quality fish to cook for all my pals! A pair of waterproof Bluetooth earphones for listening to podcasts while lap swimming. A Pendleton blanket. A four-person camping tent. A rental automobile to go to upstate for the Saugerties Garlic Festival or the Rhinebeck Sheep and Wool Celebration. Paint for my house. Some classic pyrex. Subscriptions to the New Yorker and the New York City Evaluation of Books. Hamilton tickets.There’s a test I frequently use to things that I’m on the fence about purchasing: would I rather have this item (a shirt, a new hardcover book)now, or an expensive sandwich later? An expensive sandwich is anywhere from $12 to$20, and the imagined future is one in which I could eat the Clif bar in my purse and then go home and make lunch, or I could have a tasty sandwich right then. Most of the time, I prefer the future expensive sandwich, and put the shirt back on the hanger or the book back on the rack. I don’t keep an eye on the elegant sandwiches in my bank, and I rarely consume my sandwich credits (in truth, I typically apply the expensive sandwich test to actual elegant sandwiches, and decide I ‘d rather have that meal later on, at a time when I actually genuinely desire it).
With cat food and formula and toilet paper, there is no elegant sandwich test available. I would rather feed my daughter than have avocado, egg, and cheddar on an Old Bay biscuit from Court Street Grocers.Envisioning much better, more amazing stuff to invest my cash on only works for the important things I can go without. With the uninteresting things, there’s no escape.Dory Thrasher has a PhD in Urban Preparation and works as a scientist for the New york city City Department of Social Services(whatever she composes here is her own experience and viewpoint and in no other way represents DSS ). She makes quilts, checks out books, screams about inequality, and runs marathons. She resides in Brooklyn with a good-lookingbureaucrat and a little child.