Before Buyer’s Remorse Sets In

By Jim Hagarty
2016

I have done some stupid things in my life.

Stupid in the sense that they made no sense.

And yet, somehow, some of the best things I have ever done have been the result of some of the worst decisions I’ve ever made. Worst usually involved money, but not always.

I have suffered through buyer’s remorse so many times, it’s a thing now, a part of my character. I can hardly buy a pair of socks without thinking I should have gotten the blue ones instead of the black ones. But, of course, I only know this the first time I put the black ones on.

I have spent more time standing in line at the returns counter in stores than I have for tickets to concerts, plays and hockey games. I am well-known around town by all those whose first question is, “Is there something wrong with this?” Yes there is, I reply. The thing that is wrong with it is that I bought it.

But buyer’s remorse has always set in after a purchase has been made. Today, as I write, I am about to go the store to buy a thing and for the first time ever, I have pre-buyer’s remorse. I’m feeling badly about even considering plopping down the money for this thing.

But then I think back to those other decisions where logic played no part and yet things came out better than just all right. I am often grateful for my faulty powers of reasoning. The house I sit in at the moment was as ugly as a toe wart when I paid too much for it 31 years ago this month. It has increased in value six times since then.

So here I go. It’s too late to stop me now. MasterCard and I are on a mission and will not be stopped!

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

If you need me, I’ll be sitting beside our Christmas tree, fretting.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.