hello, I am financially high maintenance
I was thinking about writing about being financially high maintenance a while ago, and during the concert I couldn’t find my lip balm.
Then my thoughts proceeded like so…
1. This is ridiculous. I have more lip salves and sticks and balms and glosses and plumping agents than a human being really should.
2. So it’s a bit dumb that when I go to fossick for one in a dark concert I come up empty-handed (and dry-lipped).
3. Actually, now that I think about it, I probably have enough lip stuff to last me a full lifetime.
4. I could put all my lip products out on the kitchen table and take a photo of them for my blog. [Oh, and I will, don’t you worry, I just can’t be shagged right now.]
5. Come to think of it, I probably have enough of most things to last me a lifetime.
6. Oh, that’s right, I was going to write something a while ago about being financially high maintenance, but then I got sidetracked. It’s a hard life, being financially high maintenance. There are so many shiny things and I can only – hang on a minute – concentrate – for – sorry, what was I saying?
7. It’s nearly payday.
8. What’s my problem?
9. I’m bored now. I also like bed, and sleep is free, so that’s a bonus.
10. When you think about it, for about 1/3 of my life I spend no money at all. I would sleep more if I could. Perhaps that would be a good new budgeting regime: The Sleep Budget.
You get the idea. Maybe I’m not that bad. It’s all relative.
I can’t say I want for anything, though. Should I? I want things I can’t have, yes, but they are pretty much all unreasonable, outlandishly non-essential things.
Sometimes I like to think about the concept of getting back to basics. But then I think about camping and my muscles clench in an altogether unpleasant way. My pores sweat coldly. I recoil. I reach for my refrigerated drink, fumble for the remote control, turn up the dial on my piping hot electric blanket. And sometimes, just sometimes, if I remember, I thank my lucky stars for keeping me away from longdrops and septic welts, away from a daily diet of chargrilled sausages (blackened on the outside, unthinkably innards-pink in the centre), from hissing possum phobia, rocks under the ground sheet, cutty grass, from dishes washed in grimy soapy water, from scummy hand sanitiser, from sleeping bags that smell like the sweat of strangers.
It has just come to me. April will be low maintenance me month. I’ll try not to document my abstinence too rigorously. How boring would that be.
Now that I’m about to sign off, I just remembered the recurring dream I have been meaning to write about. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. It is such a lovely dream that even to just remember it is dreamy.
Filed under: things I like | 1 Comment
Tags: dreams, indoors, money, sleep, things I like