(sorry if this pops up in your feed readers twice; I think I hit publish before I was done).
So, yes, I think I have a problem. And I'm kind of serious. If not kept in check, I shop. Shop shop shop.
For example, I try to keep myself out of the uni. bookstore/department store because it has lots of fun things; books, bags, kids toys, stationery, etc. I can always find something cute and potentially useful there, so I try to stay away unless Hubs is with me.
Yesterday, I mentioned going to my LYS because they had a 25% off sale, and I picked up these:
The first is Silk Garden Sock, which makes for an impressive Boteh, and it was on sale; the second is some tweed to make my mother a Calorimetry. I also got some notions to send to my mother, but I don't count those in my shopping quota.
Today, N. and I went out for brunch and some walking around the city, because the weather is nice and I'm trying to keep our routine up as much as possible while Hubs is away. I'm minding it more than the baby, I think, and not because of the additional effort in single-parenting, but because of being lonely down here. It was one of those weeks where I really miss having family around. I was trying to kill some time on our walk, and it was hot enough to need a stop in a shop for an a/c break, so I went back to the LYS. And came home with these:
... just because. I'll use them, don't get me wrong. I love Noro color transitions in a scarf, and I've been coveting these two balls of Trekking for some time, having enjoyed making the Boteh from the pastel colorway last year. Do I need them? Nope. Did I buy them anyway? Yup. I told Hubby not to bother trying to find me any sort of souvenir to bring home, because this will count as my "I survived a week by myself" reward.
I'm not going to talk about the fact that I was also feeling pretty down on Wednesday and ordered other craft supplies online that I couldn't get locally, since I've been stalking them for a while and there was a sale.
My brother will stalk yard sales and store sales and isn't allowed in Costco by himself. My mother hates clutter, but has a hard time throwing things out - I had four pairs of flannel PJs that were brand new (gifts) but didn't fit; I was going to give them to the Salvation Army but Mom took them before I had the chance. Dad was cleaning out Grammie's house a bit and found every bathmat she's owned since 1960, along with my grandfather's longjohn - washed, ironed, and folded in the cedar chest - and every piece of tinfoil she's used since moving into the house. With me, it happens when I'm lonely or tired or anxious. I distract myself by finding things that would be neat, then I sit on the thought for a while, and when I'm having a particularly bad day, I cave. It seems to be on both sides of the family, and while we're nowhere near the scale that you see on A&E's Hoarders or Intervention, I'm thinking, "there but for the grace of God..."
On average, every second project I start comes from stash, and I'm more of a single-ball-at-a-time stasher. For some reason I can't conscience taking home a sweater's worth of yarn when I haven't even completed a sweater for myself yet. I think I explained it to my mother by saying, I'm gathering some of every kind of craft/art that I like and can do, that way when my kids/nieces/nephews/neighbors want to learn something, I can teach them and send them off with supplies. I'm very good at justifying things ;-)
So, I'm going to put it out there in the universe, try to think more about what I bring in the house, and work on doing things with what I have. Heaven only knows if I've reached STABLE status already and I'm only in my 30's ;-)