I met my parents somewhere in the middle yesterday for a half day of outlet shopping. I bought very little (two tops, an ultra soft waffle knit shirt that I promptly cut up to make it wearable for ballet, and travel-size cosmetics) and came out feeling victorious. I beat the shopping beast. I will live another month to spend my money on pole dancing, wine, and dance performances. I will make two more tax-free payments on my peepers and one on the car. I will replenish the savings that has been slowly dwindling ever since the pole dancing began (occasionally, like now, it strikes me as strange that I pay someone else to pole dance). I will have money for New Year’s adventures.
And then it hit me: crash anythings – diets, financial belt tightenings, celibacy vows – are for pansies. It’s working in the long term that’s impressive. It’s making small decisions every day – skipping the In-N-Out strawberry milkshake, forgoing the deeply discounted classic little summer bag, dragging yourself to the pool on the first day of your period – that makes for true discipline. I know that I can live on 1200 calories and work out for 2-3 hours a day seven days a week for months and I’m reasonably certain that I could buy only groceries and gas for that same period, but ask me to eat dessert only once a week, go for a moderate walk every day, and only replace clothing that doesn’t fit or has holes for the rest of my life and I’d come up with a very creative and unpleasant place to tell you to go. And so I’m pleased, even triumphant, that I spent hours at outlets and bought so little. Because binge shopping is for pansies…and so is skipping dessert.
I met my parents somewhere in the middle yesterday for a half day of outlet shopping. I bought very little (two tops, an ultra soft waffle knit shirt that I promptly cut up to make it wearable for ballet, and travel-size cosmetics) and came out feeling victorious. I beat the shopping beast. I will live another month to spend my money on pole dancing, wine, and dance performances. I will make two more tax-free payments on my peepers and one on the car. I will replenish the savings that has been slowly dwindling ever since the pole dancing began (occasionally, like now, it strikes me as strange that I pay someone else to pole dance). I will have money for New Year’s adventures.
And then it hit me: crash anythings – diets, financial belt tightenings, celibacy vows – are for pansies. It’s working in the long term that’s impressive. It’s making small decisions every day – skipping the In-N-Out strawberry milkshake, forgoing the deeply discounted classic little summer bag, dragging yourself to the pool on the first day of your period – that makes for true discipline. I know that I can live on 1200 calories and work out for 2-3 hours a day seven days a week for months and I’m reasonably certain that I could buy only groceries and gas for that same period, but ask me to eat dessert only once a week, go for a moderate walk every day, and only replace clothing that doesn’t fit or has holes for the rest of my life and I’d come up with a very creative and unpleasant place to tell you to go. And so I’m pleased, even triumphant, that I spent hours at outlets and bought so little. Because binge shopping is for pansies…and so is skipping dessert.
Busty Satan 
fabulous girl said,
July 9, 2008 at 10:58 pm
Ooh, you’re not going to like hearing about my weekend …
BS said,
July 9, 2008 at 11:11 pm
Oh no, I promise to pull myself together to be absolutely thrilled for you! And I get just as much satisfaction out of someone else having a good shopping day as I do out of having one myself…well, almost.