The Three Faces Of Me

http://etsy.com/shop/ficklepicklefun

I am the consummate American, in that it is in my blood to be a consumer.  This does not blend well with my Irish-German roots, which advocate practicality and thrift.  So I am greedy whilst concurrently being miserly: to qualities that are ever at-odds with each other.


Being a Greedy Miser, I naturally want things, but am too cheap to spend money willy-nilly.  This causes a constant state of agitation, for when one side is satisfied, the other is inevitably chagrined.  It is almost (but not really) like having Split-Personality Disorder, where both Greedy and Miserly cannot manifest themselves at the same time, and are always battling for dominance.

It might be OK if all I wanted were unobtainable things, anyway, but it is usually the mundane that cause Greedy and Miserly the most angst.  Take, for instance, my fascination with fast food: Greedy may be sucked towards those Golden Arches like a moth to a bug-zapper, but Miserly is always too practical to actually spend the $3.99 on a Big Mac.  Years ago, passing the Wendy’s that was on my daily route home from work and once again denying Greedy an icy-cool Frosty, I passionately vowed to allow myself several fast food trips every month that I was pregnant . . . not that I expected to get pregnant any time soon.  But certainly Miserly would concede a few bucks here or there once I was eating for two!

Well, she didn’t, and I was forced to crave deep-fried potatoes from afar as my wallet firmly held on to its hard-earned 99 cents.

Miserly pulls the ‘prudency’ card quite a bit.  Were it not for the sales at thrift stores, Greedy would be nothing but an impotent hiss of rage.

Scrooge had it easy.  While he was also a Greedy Miser, he was greedy and miserly about the same thing: money.  Therefore, he was always acquiring money while concomitantly not spending that money, so both of his psyches were satisfied.  Which means, really, that he was perfectly happy, so those damn nosy ghosts should have just let him be.

Too bad my psyches cannot be aligned, because they are starting to make me act in ways that may be considered rash.  The other day, for instance, Mr. C and I ran into the store to pick up three items that Greedy wanted.  And I was very good, and only got those three items (the cheapest available option of each item, so Miserly was alright with it); thus, I was well-balanced and self-satisfied.  But, as we stood in line to check out, I noticed the rack of calendars, which included three versions of those “Mom Calendars”. 

For those of you who aren’t nerds, I shall explain: apparently, it is important for the matriarch of the clan to possess a planner that allows her to keep track of the various appointments of ‘up to five family members!’  In order to keep track of said engagements, it is evidently crucial for the calendar to have lots of brightly-drawn, feminine designs and an army of color-coordinated stickers (printed – in sets of about 20 – with such reminders as ‘doctor’s appointment!’ and ‘birthday party!’ [and here I must shudder at the idea of being responsible for attending 20 birthday parties a year]).  And these calendars are so colorful and eye-catching that I have ever been drawn to them, such as a crow is drawn to shiny trash.  I have aspired to own one since being a teen, perhaps with the vague sense that the RIGHT to own one would put me in the same league as that assembly of confident, multi-tasking, put-together women.

My heart was actually pounding as Greedy studied the three “Mom Calendars” available for purchase.  We even consulted Mr. C for his opinion (though he chose incorrectly).  But, as the check-out line slowly moved forward, I regretfully yanked each calendar out of Greedy’s hands and wistfully put it away for, even though they were on sale, they still cost $12.99 each.  And, while a dollar-a-month is not an exorbitant price to pay for a year of happiness and satisfaction (not to mention color-coordinated stickers!), Miserly was busy harping in my ear that I had TWO perfectly good, FREE calendars at home and did I really want to be responsible for the murder of yet-another tree and – besides – hadn’t I just allowed myself 49 extra cents for a pair of patterned, rather than plain, socks?!

Well played, Miserly.  Well played.

But then Greedy retaliated on the drive home by talking me into stopping at Carl’s Jr. for a shake, tricking Miserly with the ‘buy one get one free’ coupon in my purse, and I sucked down all of my chocolate shake and part of my child’s orange shake and all three of us ended the day with a stomach ache.

Touché.