I like the savings made possible through coupons but I hate my relationship with coupons.
When coupons for products that I regularly buy cross my path, I am compelled to clip them. Why not? Not using them is the same as throwing money away, and that hurts my soul. So, I must find scissors for clipping. If I’m too lazy to get up and find scissors, I will tear out the coupon. The results are disgusting, so I get up eventually, find scissors and neatly trim the edges. Sometimes my lazy effort tears into the coupon so badly that it is destroyed, and then I’m really angry with myself.
I can’t remember whether or not I have already clipped a certain coupon from another source—it looks so familiar. Shall I check through my coupon envelope or go ahead and cut it out? Neither can I remember whether I have already bought a certain product refill recently, so I check the pantry or closet. I don’t want to deal with myself if I buy another and see the duplicate as I am putting the second one away.
I watch for discounts on big staple items such as detergent or cooking oil. When no coupon shows up, I go ahead and buy what I need at full price because the home supply is running low. Invariably, the coupon that I was watching for is published the very next week after my purchase. Upsetting.
Although I have been regularly taking advantage of discount coupons for decades, I still often leave behind a batch that I have saved when I head out to shop. That makes me so angry with myself. Not only do I have to deal with the needless money loss but also the disgust of going to the trouble of saving them for nothing. Even worse is carrying coupons with me but forgetting to take them out of my purse at checkout.
Most embarrassing is to proudly present a coupon and have the cashier point out that the date has expired or the coupon is for an entirely different product, not the one that I selected. I snatch it back and mumble an apology, wishing that I could melt into anonymity. Such a stupid oversight bothers my ego.
Sometimes the Sunday paper arrives missing the packet of coupons. Did the coupons just fail to be included or did someone lift them along the way? Either scenario is provoking. Yet, there are times when I’m in a hurry, and as I turn through the paper I’m secretly hoping that the bundle of coupons is missing so I won’t feel guilty about not taking the time to study and clip them.
Coupons mess with my mind.