Oh Father, forgive me for I have sinned…

I’m not sure how it all began but for a few years my shopping trolley and I were on a collision course with the very lowest level of Hell.
I knew why and I knew how many. Trouble is, you can’t take any of it with you. It was just going to be me, the memory of my sinful purchases and the mewling minions of Satan.

Greed. Nothing was ever enough. There was never just one and never a point of conclusion. Just when it all looked as if it had come to an end, the shopping list would mutate and another reconnaissance mission would begin. There was always a mission and I took my role as commander seriously.

Using the simple credit card as my weapon of choice, I channelled Diana, Goddess of the Hunt. Skilfully, and with great determination, I would track down and retrieve prey of such beauty and magnitude that my waiting family would rejoice in my offerings to the hearth. Hunting and gathering missions became an obsession until it became increasingly obvious that I was in fact a rogue agent.
I was out of control.
I gave myself up in the end and surrendered my weapon. I got off very lightly, but The Guilt, the relentless Catholic kind, remains.

I have accumulated such a vast number of Things that it would be impossible to document and number them all in their entirety. I have managed to catalogue 33 pairs of boots but there are cupboards, wardrobes, shelves, a shed, drawers, closets and, in fact, a huge storage unit, filled with Things that are testament to my Greed.

I still enjoy shopping but, like an alcoholic, am careful not to fall off the wagon and hop back on the shopping trolley.

Gordon Gecko has a lot to answer for.