And, of course, that someone is me. I was weak and caved in to temptation, so it’s my own damn fault. However, I was acting under the influence of the New York Times, so let’s blame them. Why should I take the rap alone, right?
You see, an article I read encouraged readers to loosen the purse strings once in a while. It said spending money on non-essentials — such as travel — is sometimes beneficial to a person’s well-being and might even offer a higher return than saving would. The author, in fact, regarded an occasional splurge as healthy, life-enhancing behavior. So I splurged. Just not on travel.
I parked myself on the sofa and went off on a wild, reckless shopping spree. Money flew out of my bank account like startled bats and I didn’t care. Not a whit. Not a tittle. Not an iota. I watched it go and I was giddy with delight. I bought sunglasses and t-shirts, music and books and a toy, every item an extravagant luxury in my iffy position.
I could maybe, possibly make a feeble case for the sunglasses, since I destroyed mine falling face-first onto the sidewalk. But did I need to buy Ray-Bans? No, I did not. But I bought the fancy-schmancy name brand, anyway. Actually, I bought kid’s Ray-Bans and at a fraction of the cost of adult frames. Those babies fit like they were custom-made; not too big or too small, exactly right for my pinhead. Even so, they were way pricier than a generic, no-name brand.
The other stuff, the t-shirts and all? Well, I’ll neither defend nor regret my reckless spending. I knew it was wrong and I still don’t care. I won’t make any apologies, because a life without toys is not worth living. So there.
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