The talking news heads called yesterday, Friday, June 6, Black Friday. The price of oil rose $13 some dollars per barrel, an all time increase; more jobs were lost in May than any time during the last quarter of a century; and, due to these two pieces of bad news, the stock market plunged.
This morning, after spending two hours hunting down really cheap bargains at the neighborhood garage sales ($3 for a lamp/table combo; $10 for a padded, swiveling desk chair, $1 each for an assortment of education VCR and DVD tapes; 25 cents each for a trunk-load of classical literature), we headed out to the $100 store. You know the drill: no matter how much or how little you purchase in one of these huge box warehouses, you end up spending at least $100.
But inflation has hit the warehouses, too. Today, 18 items (watermelon, fiber laxatives for the dog, Ritz crackers, round steak, pork chops, milk, bing cherries, etc.) ran $237. It's now the $200 store.
1 comment:
i am sticking my fingers in my ears and closing my eyes. i am pretending that everything is wonderful. if i don't see the inflation, it doesn't exist.
the warehouse stores make me hyperventilate. for some reason, it stresses me out to buy in bulk.
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