Will You Take Me Shopping?

I need a shopping therapist.

No, not retail therapy, unless you want to pay, but that’s not my point, and no, I’m not a shopaholic.  I’ve had my reckless shopping impulses under control for a few years now.  It’s amazing how you can manage reckless shopping impulses when you have no money to waste.

What I need is a shopping counselor.  A spiritual guide.  A conscience to sit on my shoulder and bellow whisper in my ear when I’m about to make a decision.

I’ll clarify.

Because I want to live forever in hopes of seeing the Cubs win a World Series, I reduce fat and cholesterol in my diet, cook with beneficial oils, cut simple carbs, choose egg whites and lean meats and whole wheats, less salt, no salt, sea salt, and fiber fiber fiber.

Easy.

Then I become more aware of the environment; this might or might not have something to do with a rise in fuel prices and a distinct disgust with feeding the car and by the way what am I supposed to do with all these plastic bags?  I learn to recycle while also reducing and reusing.  I buy fruits and vegetables loose instead of bagging them so I don’t come home with extra plastic bags.  I make my own cleaning stuff for bathtubs, toilets, laundry and the kitchen floor by diluting vinegar with water.  I choose dishcloths over paper towels.  I use pages from the Sears catalog… never mind.

I still have a subscription to The New York Times and The New Yorker, however, because Cupcake doesn’t try to read over my shoulder when I’m holding a newspaper instead of a mouse.

Then I have kids.  I buy the healthiest foods I can find, including organic dairy products because I’ve heard that the hormones in milk can cause early puberty.  I buy whole grain bread and pasta.  My mother complains about the whole grain pasta and I wish I’d never told her because otherwise she never would have noticed any difference.  I buy fresh vegetables and then throw them away because the kids won’t eat them.

Except for carrots.  My kids like carrots.  My kids are orange.

But the voices in my head argue heatedly about priorities and I don’t know which to believe any more.

Do I go for low fat, low salt, low sugar or low carbs?  How about organic, which costs more?  Do I opt for canned or aseptically boxed chicken broth?  Do I have to make my own chicken broth, and if so do I have to use organic chicken?  Low fat?  No MSG?  No added salt?  No added sugar?  Sweetened with fruit juice?  Whatever is the opposite of high fructose corn syrup?  And how much pesticide really is on those apples?

Then there’s packaging.

I buy fruits and vegetables without putting them in bags.  Except for things like green beans because I might be obsessive but I’m not stupid.  Then the different varieties of apples roll around in the cart and I conscientiously separate and sort them as I unload them from the cart because I don’t want to mess up the supermarket’s inventory system because what if the checker marks everything down as Jonagolds when I also bought some Honeycrisps, but then the bagger puts them all in plastic bags anyway since evidently the thought of apples running free is anathema to supermarket baggers.

What about detergent?  Buy the dry stuff in a cardboard box because presumably cardboard left to its own devices will deteriorate several days before a plastic bottle and even though I recycle I’m convinced that the recycling companies take my money for recycling and treat themselves to a beer after throwing my recyclables over a precipice?

Buy loose strawberries which are more expensive to avoid buying them in a plastic carton?

What about orange juice?  Organic (again more expensive)?  Do I buy paper cartons, which will rot in a landfill centuries before plastic ones?  Which kind makes more sense to recycle?  Or should I buy the frozen concentrate because it produces less waste?  Or should I buy a juicer and just make my own juice, which would undoubtedly be much more costly and would fill up the composter* but would generate no landfill waste and what a mess!?

So I need a spiritual shopping adviser to accompany me to grocery stores and warehouse clubs who will tell me with extreme certainty and correctitude (not an actual word, but darn well ought to be) whether, in any retail situation, to opt for health or packaging or some combination or something else because I’m telling you I’ve just about had it and I’m contemplating just serving leaves from the yard from now on.

I know, I know — it’s way more appealing to help me shop for clothes, but I have that area nailed down: it’s all silk and cashmere, baby, all silk and cashmere!

Anyone up to the challenge?

Spell check suggested composer.  Huh?