I confessed recently on my blog that I had crossed the line of being "too cheap":

When cleaning out the cat litter boxes, I always wear rubber gloves. But for months I have made the job more precarious by wearing, um, two left-handed gloves. I did this because I had two pairs of gloves with holes in the right hands, so I tossed the bad righties and wore the perfectly fine lefties on each hand.

My thrift finally backfired recently when I dropped the litter box filled with bleach and hot water. My fumble splashed the cleaning solution on good jeans, demoting them to painter's pants.

Not spending $2 for new gloves cost me $40 to replace a pair of Levis. I was officially "frugality fatigued," a term that started popping up in 2009 as Americans tired of cutting corners in a bad economy.

If you wonder if you've ever crossed the line, you might be too cheap when:

Buying in bulk creates more work and expense.

If you are installing extra shelving to store hundreds of rolls of toilet paper, for example, consider dialing it back. If you're throwing food away because it's spoiled or past the expiration date, it's time to reassess. If your kids' bedrooms have been converted into pantries, give it a rest.

You pinch pennies on guests and friends.

Board the cheap train for yourself, but don't force others to hop on. Twin Cities residents Julie Miller and Robin Herbst, co-authors of "The Cheap Book," find themselves guilty of shorting friends and relatives. Miller will buy an expensive bottle of Grey Goose, then refill it with cheap vodka to serve at parties.

Herbst, who re-uses facial tissues, is irritated that she can't get her husband to do likewise. She buys herself the softest Puffs (with lotion), but gets cheap, scratchy, generic tissues for her hubby.

Herbst and Miller also replace nicer name-brand paper products with dollar-store toilet paper, tissue and paper towels before guests arrive.

Remember, cheapskates, giving freely to others and sparingly to yourself is divine. It's written somewhere in the Bible that you "borrowed" from Motel 6 in 1989.

You put health and safety at risk.

Notorious cheapskate Jack Benny used to tell a joke about being held up at gunpoint. The mugger says, "Your money or your life." After a long pause, the thug says, "Look, bud, what'll it be?" Benny deadpans, "I'm still thinking."

Herbst's cheapness takes a similar turn that, fortunately, has not yet turned deadly. She uses windshield wiper fluid sparingly, even when her windshield is coated with road spray. "I just hate wasting the fluid," she said. For the safety of everyone on the road, please spend a few extra bucks every winter and keep a gallon of washer fluid in the trunk at all times.

Many cheapskates think expiration dates are a manufacturer's ploy to get us to buy more. But some dates should be followed carefully. For example, don't try to save a buck by lengthening the time of extended-wear contact lenses. It's not worth losing your sight.

What about over-the-counter or prescription drugs? Ask your pharmacist. Still, the Food and Drug Administration found that 90 percent of the more than 100 drugs tested were perfectly good even 15 years after the expiration date.

As for food, if it looks, smells or tastes bad, don't serve it to anyone, including yourself. It is legal for supermarkets to sell products past their freshness dates, except for a few items such as infant formula. As long as a product has been properly handled and refrigerated, there is some leeway.

You spend too much time getting too little in return.

Until readers commented on my blog, I never considered the fractions of cents saved by those who quit using plastic bags to bag fruits and vegetables in the produce aisle at the supermarket, supposedly so their produce weighs less by an infinitesimal amount at the checkout stand. Others take the time to pluck off cherry stems to lighten the load.

How else do cheapskates spend too much time chasing small potatoes? Some separate double-ply toilet paper, creating two rolls out of one.

Steve Halseth of Buffalo, Minn., tried to save about $5 on vacuum cleaner bags by dumping out the contents and re-using the bag. "I slit the bag open and dumped the contents into a garbage bag (all the while coughing and spitting dust and dirt) and then taped the bag shut. When I started the machine, the slit opened and the remaining dust was evenly deposited over the contents of the room I was trying to clean," he wrote. Ninety minutes later, he still hadn't saved $5.

Another online reader wisely noted that driving 5 miles to save 3 cents on a gallon of gas is crazy: "For a car that gets 25 mpg and has a 16-gallon tank, that means spending 60 cents to save 48 cents. With wear and tear, this is a big loser."