I have discovered that booking a holiday and paying for a holiday are two completely different emotional experiences.

Booking one is pure dopamine. Flights? Business class because life is short. Hotel? Obviously somewhere beautiful because experiences matter. Dinner reservations? Absolutely. Airport transfers? I’m not landing after eight hours to start negotiating with a taxi driver. At this stage, I’m not spending money. I’m investing in memories.

Then the credit card bill arrives and suddenly, life doesn’t feel quite so short.

I stare at the number wondering who has stolen my card, only to discover through a brief forensic investigation that the criminal is, in fact, me.

But before the trip, I’m excellent at financial justification. I work hard. I deserve this. Travel broadens the mind. Experiences are more valuable than things. Nobody lies on their deathbed wishing they’d maintained a lower credit-card utilisation ratio.

This philosophy remains remarkably robust until I arrive at my destination and start shopping.

Because apparently, while experiences are more valuable than things, things purchased during experiences don’t count as things.

They’re memories.

The shoes aren’t shoes. They’re Singapore.

The handbag isn’t a handbag. It’s Switzerland.

The completely unnecessary perfume purchased at an airport because I had 40 minutes to kill isn’t financial irresponsibility. It’s a souvenir.

And shopping on holiday feels spectacular. There is something about being abroad that completely destroys my understanding of currency. €500 somehow feels considerably less offensive than ₹60,000 because the number is smaller.

Economics.

Then I come home…The skin tan fades. The suitcase gets unpacked. The hotel starts looking even better on Instagram than it did when I was actually there!

And the second credit-card bill arrives.

This is when YOLO quietly leaves the conversation.

Suddenly I’m looking at purchases with the cold clarity of a forensic accountant.

Did I really need this? Why did nobody stop me? Why did €500 feel like ₹500?

And most importantly, why did I apparently believe Future Me was going to be significantly wealthier than Holiday Me?

For approximately three days, I experience genuine remorse. I announce that I’m done travelling for a while. No shopping. No unnecessary spending. I’m going to become one of those mysterious people who “value financial discipline.”

Then an airline sends me an email or my husband casually mentions a weekend in Dubai and then…

I click! Just to look.

And suddenly I’m comparing hotels, airline seats and credit card limits again because, after all…

You only live once.

My credit card, unfortunately, appears to live forever.