My desktop is filled with various studies on the consumer habits, desires, needs, and intentions of Croatian consumers. Thus, mine as well. I find out that I am one of four who spent on winter sales in January; that I am among the three out of four who will not be buying a personal computer this year; that last year, unlike the year before, I missed buying a new car, and that, all in all, I made a substantial contribution to the fact that retail sales fell by about 15 percent last year. This year, I am expected to improve.
All those who channel money from my current account, as well as those who are just hoping for it, have made an effort to analyze my spending habits to the point of exhaustion. If I spend more than usual, they notify me to check if I am still financially capable. If I spend less, they call me and ask with concern if everything is alright with me. Thank you for asking, everything is okay. Except that I have started to worry a bit about whom I have left all my personal data to and why, who has complete insight into my income and expenses. Not as an average consumer, but as a person with a name, surname, tax identification number, personal identification number, email address, and mobile number. Everything about my spending is available to almost everyone except for the vendors at the market, where I still (to my regret) have to pay in cash.
The telecommunications company diligently reports to me as soon as it establishes that my current spending has deviated from the usual. Of course, not because the telecom does not want me to spend even more, but to avoid potential disputes. The bank is notifying guarantors faster and faster that I have not yet paid my loan installment. The clothing store informs me via SMS that they will give me another 10 percent discount, just for visiting them. The grocery store has precisely specified items that I buy most often and regularly sends me notifications about which of those items are on sale. The cosmetics store tracks every kuna I spend.