It’s odd…when I was looking for things to get for Bob for his birthday, my only hang up was what to get him. Once I figured some things out, it wasn’t difficult to spend the money. Buying something for my husband, I barely thought twice.
I have a folder currently sitting on my desktop titled “wishlist.” It has pictures and a text file of links to things I’ve been considering buying for myself for my birthday. I’d never remember what it was I had in mind otherwise. It’s all fairly cheap and simple stuff. Nothing extravagant. And after staring at it for quite some time, I think I know what I really want to get off the list.
And I can’t seem to bring myself to click purchase on a single item.
I am incredibly cheap when it comes to buying things for myself. (Unless we’re talking music from my absolute favorites.) I agonize over every last dime I spend. Never mind the fact that the money in my bank account is essentially for me to spend as I please. I waffle and debate and more often than not walk away without buying anything.
It stems from getting fired and having no choice but to spend my money on nothing but absolute essentials. And then having to make a decision between paying bills or paying for the medications that were more or less keeping me alive.
Now buying anything frivolous for myself makes me twitch with guilt no matter how badly I want something—or how cheap it is. I even agonize over my music purchases, which can be incredibly painful.
Bob and I are not hurting for money. We’re not exactly rolling in it either. We’re comfortable. We can pay our bills without issue and still have money to put into savings and budget for the fun stuff.
And yet, I balk at getting a haircut, buying clothes that fit, or splurging on goofy items I imagine would make excellent fidget tools to soothe my bad-addled brain.
I suppose that makes me a responsible adult?
Or just crazy?
I have no idea.
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Gotta Be Wrong Sometimes OAR |