Confessions of a Costco Junkie

I'm gonna admit something here. The first step to curing an addiction is admitting you have one, right? Hi, my name is Megan. I am a Costco junkie. For those of you in an area of the country that doesn't have a Costco, first, my heart bleeds for you. Second, it's like a Sam's or a BJ's--it's a food "warehouse" where you buy 27,000 lbs of ground beef and you get it for 12 cents a pound. And I love it.

Why? Because my sad, sad life has gone from eating out eight nights a week and popping into a movie theater whenever I want like dropping a 50-spot for two hours of enjoyment, some overly buttered popcorn and Ju-Ju Beans was normal to pinching every penny so much, Lincoln's giving me dirty looks. So one of the few things I do get to spend money on and be able to look myself in the mirror is groceries. And boy, have I perfected the grocery shopping experience...because, frankly, I now have time on my hands. Time that used to be spent enjoying movies but is now spent figuring out how I can squeeze blood out of a turnip.

And Costco has now figured heavily into my grocery shopping experience. Going through there and seeing the deals you can get by simply being willing to buy more of whatever it is at one time makes me giddy. I go in there, whip out my iPhone (don't judge me, I bought it before the economy went in the tank), hit the calculator function and proceed to figure up how much a bag of coffee at Costco saves me vs one at Publix. Then I figure up how much it saves me per pound, then per ounce. And then I squeeze my eyes closed, do a little dance and laugh like a psycho patient as I plop a three pound bag of coffee in my cart for $9.99. And it proceeds like this for the few hours it takes me to walk the place. If I go on a Saturday or Sunday, it becomes actual entertainment because of all the sample food they serve up. And then if it's a Saturday or Sunday during a time they've offered coupons (YES! This cost-savings place also sends coupons that save you even more...wait, stop, I'm gonna lose consciousness), the whole family piles into the truck, we throw the mother-in-law onto the roof in her rocker and you talk about an OUTING.

Yep, Costco junkie. But hey, times in trucking (and for all of you not in trucking too, I am sure) are harder than Japanese arithmetic, and this little fetish saves money and provides entertainment. You can hardly blame me if I don't intend to kick the habit.