Why I am (psychologically) a Calvinist
Divine retribution is swift and unerring. Yesterday, in a fit of self-pity, compounded by PMS, home-repair-overload, and general moral weakness, I bought myself a lovely but somewhat pricey bauble--something lovely that I didn't need but really, really wanted. Something that if my husband were alive he would a) approve of aesthetically; b) encourage me to purchase; c) contribute enough to the household income that the purchase would be a mere blip on the monthly exchequer.By the time I got home, there was a message from the carpenter. The porch on the rental house is rotted and needs replacing. This, he cheerfully assures me, should "not cost more than a coupla thou."
In this case, I feel less like Edwards's proverbial spider dangling over the firepit of hell, and more like a fly encrusted on the underside of the Divine Swatter.
Labels: God's revenge, retail therapy
posted by Unknown @ 2:23 PM
4 Comments:
I'd pass the word from the carpenter along to the landlord, noting possible safety and liability issues.
Totally understand the rotten situation of not being able to treat yourself without financial guilt and repercussions. Been there for so long that even necessities feel like guilty splurges.
Sadly, I am the landlord. The buck stops (or starts!) here.
Sigh.
I have justified my retail therapy since John's death with the accurate assessment that John would want me to buy things for myself--he never thought I did enough for me.
But, like you, I've felt the pinch of reality. It stinks. You deserve your bauble and we deserve a free pass on things like rotting porches.
Ah, got it. Aargh.
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