So...
if you've spoken to me at all in the past year, you know that my New Year's resolution #1 is to Get A (New) Job. In that effort on Sunday afternoon I curled up on the couch under a blanket with a Diet Coke and the Sunday Washington Post.
Because I am concerned with the environmental hypocrisy involved in not reading the GIGANTIC Sunday paper (see resolution #2, reduce environmental footprint) and because the Want Ads scare me with their inherent frustration and fury and causation of general feelings of inadequacy and desperation, I stalled a little by reading the other sections of the paper first. Including the Magazine and the comics and all of the stuff in the shiny blue wrapper in the middle, which is where I made the most amazing discovery.
Coupons!
I vaguely remember my mother clipping coupons, back in the day. I am not sure why this trait did not pass itself on to me, unless it was like football in that it was such an integral part of my childhood that I repressed (repulsed?) it and avoided it entirely until I was roughly 25. Maybe I secretly associated coupon-clipping with trailers and pink velcro curlers and aprons and other affectations of white-trash housewifery (how many people did I just offend? Six? Eight? Moving on.) Whatever the reason, I've never paid much attention to coupons unless they were of the "banana republic sale" variety. So imagine my surprise when, rifling through the two coupon sections of the Post, I found page after page of discounts on items I BUY EVERY WEEK!!!
I mean really. Fifty cents off of Lean Cuisines! A dollar off of my favorite toothpaste! Two dishwasher detergent packages for the price of one! People, you can SAVE MONEY if you just cut out these little pieces of paper!
Completely distracted from the Get A (New) Job mission, I eagerly and diligently cut out coupon after coupon (only, of course, for products that I already buy. I'm no dummy), arranged them in order of my grocery store aisles, and promptly forgot about them when I got up to go grocery shopping. I'm still new at this.
What I really want now is one of those little accordion-style coupon wallets. Does anyone know where I can find one of these? And, also, some pink velcro hair curlers?
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"Raised in the country, I been workin' in a town, I been in trouble since I set my suitcase down."
5 comments:
Wow. The coupon wallet is OLD SCHOOL!! My mom had one, and she kept it in her Sunday grocery purse so she wouldn't leave it behind. I don't know that they even sell those anymore.
As for the pink Velcro hair curlers -- don't knock 'em. They kept me lookin fly when I was in middle and high school. That, and my silk hair bonnet.
Pink velcro curlers are still in YOUR bathroom at home!
Coupon wallet...well I had about 5 of them. Just use an envelope and only cut out the ones you really will use.
And yes, you did offend cause we weren't in a trailer and I didn't wear an apron and I wasn't white trash housewife...I did(and still do) clip coupons to save money. And coupons were why you grew up on golden grain mac n cheese instead of Kraft. You only got Kraft when there was a coupon!
Yikes! I think you pissed your moms off, dude...
I wasn't white trash, either! :-D
I said MAYBE.
Also, I was KIDDING.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. You people ask for the blog, then get all worked up...
Hmmm now I see the coupons as more of an indication that you have taken another step on the path toward your ultimate vocation as "crazy cat lady" . . . And those crazy cat ladies tend to die having amassed huge fortunes (to leave to their cats), which were probably augmented by their diligent use of coupons over the years. So, at the very least, rich and crazy white trash.
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