What does the squirrel say?

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I have come to decide I was a squirrel in a past life. Now before you judge me and think “wow, what a weirdo! Why am I reading this?” bare with me. I have a point to this, I promise.

I have Jewish heritage, and while I don’t celebrate it, I think it still affects me. I hoard money. I find spending money excruciatingly hard.  Until I splurge, anyway.

Yesterday I accidently bought $123 worth of alcohol. This is not because I have a drinking problem. The vodka was on special. And it was good vodka. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s cheap alcohol; I won’t drink it. It’s disgusting, and I’m way too classy for that. So when I saw that Smirnoff Vodka was on special, it was an opportunity I just had to take. The only problem was I bought more than one. And then some. Whoops.

And it’s not like I didn’t already have alcohol at home; I pretty much have an entire bar. So why did I spend so much? I hoard. It was on special. I saw the savings and couldn’t resist.


This is what leads me to believe I was a squirrel in a past life—a Jewish squirrel with an eye for bargains. I stock my liquor cabinet as if I were preparing for hibernation.

On the bright side, I don’t need to buy more alcohol for at least another six months.