<![CDATA[Retail Therapy]]>I don’t care what some people say, I firmly believe everyone enjoys retail therapy to some degree. Whether you are buying ammo or new shoes, or shopping for others or yourself, it makes no difference. There is a part of you that really, really feels good about it.

For some guys, it may be a very tiny part, but it’s there. Especially if it involves booze. Or bacon. Or bullets.

We women get a bad rap for it, but we don’t all follow the norm. For example, I have three sisters. Last evening Sister #2 called to tell me she had bought some furniture for the empty room upstairs, and was so giddy about it she was giggling. Sister #3 sent an MMS to all of us showing her new shoes, which she purchased at a major discount (And I mean MAJOR: Nicole Miller heels for $4.98). And Sister #4 and I (I’m Sister #1, in case y’all wondered) usually SQUEEE over the Lolita glasses we *ahem* acquire. The funny thing is, it doesn’t have to be expensive or blingy or showy for retail therapy to work its magic on your psyche.

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It just has to make you happy. Admittedly, a gorgeous diamond ring would make most women happy, and a Ferrari would make most men happy, too. But high maintenance would take away that first blush of happiness and replace it with resentment soon enough. Not that I would know first hand about that, though.

Sure would be fun to try it for a few weeks, though 😉

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