I am not going to say that “I’m not sure who to blame for this,” because that would imply that I am in some way embarrassed or it isn’t a conscious decision. I gladly still subscribe to Google flight notifications for trips I have already booked, just to see the price climb over what I already paid. The satisfaction of knowing how much more money I could have spent (but didn’t) is the only thing that gets me through the slog of failed sweepstakes, useless coupons, and e-bills in my inbox cleanup drudgery.
Of course there is always the odd chance that it will show the flights going cheaper, but I’m stretched and limber for the mental gymnastics required to explain how I still came out ahead and in fact found a good deal. And there is a thrill in that danger, of having gotten ripped off, that is exhilarating in a way that cannot be ignored.
The frugal life (never call me cheap) is one full of cheers and fears; because the nebulous capitalist monster that has taken our planet in its stomach has given me no other way to feel in control.
