Flushing

Every so often, like most people, I have this overwhelming need to purge something from my system.  What that something is, exactly, kinda depends on what is happening in life at the time.

I have a couple of friends who deal with their own need for refreshing change by going recreational shopping.  It works for them, and that is great.  I’ve tried it, and I  can’t seem to get the hang of it.  I have this bizarre guilt associated with buying anything other than food for myself.

Admittedly, this kind of  sucks, because I’d love to recre-shop with them, but when I do it usually multiplies my need for purging about ten fold.  It’s hard to describe.  The best description that I can offer is to tell you that when I visit the mall, make a purchase and return to the car, any “me-time” acquisition stares at me from the shopping bag and burns wicked little imaginary holes  in the sides of my head.

When I talk to my friends later,  they’re all, why haven’t you worn those sassy red capris we bought and I’m like, because I cried all the way home and had to return them that day or I’d end up in the fetal position under my bed, that’s why.  So after years and years of experimentation, I have discovered that my coping skills essentially consist of driving, returning shoes, and throwing things away.

I need a new hobby…

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