Ugly Truths

I spent three days justifying (to myself) a shirt purchase (for myself) this week. I kept comparing it to what I should be doing with that money and to what we’d spent on everyone else this month, questioning whether I’d earned it before clicking Add to Cart.

Not to jump right into a whole ‘woe is me’ soliloquy, but I wanted to start off with some context.

The ugly truth is that I’ve been running on empty for most of this year. I’m talking burnout, existential crisis, the whole enchilada. And it's my fault because nobody ever asked me to run myself into the ground.

My husband, the Balkan Storm, has been anything but neglectful or unsupportive; he’s usually the first one telling me to buy the thing, do the thing, go visit the thing, and stop overthinking all the things.

Which…kinda makes this all that much more annoying. Because if nobody is actually telling me no, why am I compelled to justify my spending? My downtime? My purely self-serving interests?

Quick impression of my brain: You don’t need that. You haven’t even earned that yet. Don’t you think that money could go toward something more practical?

Like the shirt. Which is currently on sale for $27. I don’t need it need it, but it would look perfect for an outfit I’m planning.

As of this writing, it’s still sitting in the cart waiting for me to decide if I’m allowed to purchase it.

It’s $27, and I’m sitting here in analysis paralysis.

It’s a goddamn shirt.