Trick or Treat

So I’m at Target yesterday, congratulating myself on only having 5 items in the basket, 3 of which are from the dollar spot and the other 2 are non-negotiable spending.  I think to myself, ‘It’s been a long week.  I deserve a little treat.  Hmm, how about a little something?  Oh, wait, right, there’s that bathing suit that I apparently have to wear in less than  two weeks [who the hell throws a pool party the first week of April?  Oh, right, my neighbor and child's good friend...].  Why is it that every time I think I deserve a little something, my mind always goes to something sweet or alcoholic?’  I wander the aisles a little more, pondering. 

Then it hits me – food is a treat that nobody but me has to see.  I can get “a little something,” as Pooh would say, enjoy it, hide the evidence, and no one but  me has to know that I’ve spent money on myself.  No one has to know that I enjoyed something without sharing it with them.  If I get new clothes or a massage or something like that, it’s either obvious in that I’ve got something to show for it, or it’s obvious on my bank register that I’ve spent a big chunk of change on something just for me.  Now that’s just sad.  I am a grown woman.  I should be able to allow myself to indulge in something every now and then without stuffing my face.  But what do I want?  Do I have to be so consumeristic about it?  My budget will not bear too many indulgences.  My conscience will not let me go buying crap to fill my house and eventually toss into the trash – not only because I don’t want to make my house a wreck, but also because I don’t want the ecological guilt with buying stuff that I don’t really need.  Frankly, I wish I could escape the need for more stuff.  We’ve been brought up to believe that stuff will cure our problems, and foreign countries are really making out like bandits with this plan.  Read Judith Levine’s Not Buying It, and check out Story of Stuff.  Alas, I still feel that a little purchase just for me will make me happy.

So I look at hairbands, and find that I am a pathological cheapskate.  Admittedly, I only thought that they were moderately cute, but that wasn’t what held me back.  I just didn’t want to spend $6 on something to keep my hair out of my face when I already have about 100 ponytail holders at home.  I went off on my errands, no treat in hand.  Sigh. 

I find my way to the Goodwill store – this is now the second time since leaving Atlanta that I’ve shopped at Goodwill (for those of you keeping score at home, that’s 13 years).  The first time (6 years ago) I simply refused to buy new clothes to fit my postpartum self, and Goodwill had the hideous jeans to motivate me to lose the weight.  But this time, I find a fix.  2 dresses, 1 shirt and $12 later, I’m thrilled with my purchases.  I can’t wait for the weather to warm up so I can wear these really cute new threads.  I don’t feel guilty about it, my body is happy with it, and it is something that I will get lasting enjoyment out of.   And they’re recycled, so I can talk myself into feeling good about the environmental impact. 

Next up:  Tackling the need to purchase SOMETHING to coddle myself – any ideas?