I’m one week into my Consumption Diet, in which I try to abstain from buying anything for myself other than food and necessities (Maybelline Great Lash is a necessity!) for a period of five months. So far, it’s gone without incident. I think a lot of people feel the way I do after the holidays — glutted after spending $$$ on gifts, travel, wine and many cheese logs. I’m not surprised week 1 was so easy.
The only moment in which I felt deprived was when I realized I needed a new calendar for the kitchen but — AAAAAGH!!! — I’m not allowed to buy one. Damn this stupid diet!
My first thought was, Oh, I’ll have Jake buy one for me, he he, but that of course defeats the purpose of the diet so I begrudgingly nixed it. And then I wondered, maybe I won’t actually die without a calendar in the kitchen. Maybe I’m just conditioned to having one there. Maybe a calendar is just The Man’s way of keeping me down. Yeah! That’s it! Take that, Man, and your concept of time! So I let it go. I don’t need a wall calendar. I don’t need to be reminded I’m one step closer to death everytime I fetch a glass of orange juice. Besides, I have calendars in my iPhone, laptop and iPad.
And just when I made peace with not having a calendar, Jake hauled one out from somewhere. It’s super ugly and industrial (someone gave it to him for the holidays), it’s big as a chalkboard and looks like it belongs in a plumber’s office, but it’ll have to do and it’s free. Guess I’m shackled to time after all.
And then I looked on the back of my old calendar to see how much money I saved by not buying a pretty new one with unicorns and daisies: $15. I didn’t realize pretty calendars were so spendy. That’s a whole $15 I can put toward a trip to Reno.