What I Will Buy When I Have Money Again

Shoes to run in.  Not necessarily 'running shoes' because I will still be poor, just less so, and real 'running shoes' are expensive.

I'm dying without p90x…  Because of this, today I walked up 15 flights to my apartment just to get some extra exercise.  I regretted it by the 5th floor.

Text messaging.  This one is sort of nonnegotiable.  It has become increasingly apparent over the past couple of years that not having text messaging is something of a handicap.  I have discovered that not having texting causes one of two things to happen (or, you know, both): 

1) I miss things.  Like parties.  And going to get ice cream.  And other fun events in which I would have been able to participate had I gotten the line, "R u busy 2nite?" on my phone.

2) People begin to think that I am jerk because they do not realize that I am, in fact, living a text-free lifestyle.  They instead come to believe that I A) hate them, B) think their ideas are bad and therefore don't trouble them with a response, or C) I am hopelessly and unalterably inept in the art of communication and fail to understand that the appropriate thing to do when I receive a text is to write back.

I've had the occasional blow-up with my parents where I hollered about how "This isn't fair!" and how they are "CRIPPLING ME," and how they "must simply NOT comprehend the ways in which the world works."  Honestly, though, I've mostly been pretty okay with taking my hits and not having texting.  Until now.  The idea that texting is important has been slowly taking root in my deprived mind and growing, but it is now a full-fledged, crackling FIRE in its urgency and importance.  (Yes, I mixed my metaphors, but what was I supposed to say?  That the idea has become a HUGE MOTHEREFFing TREE ABOUT TO DROP LARGE, HEAVY PIECES OF FRUIT ALL OVER THE PLACE?  It just doesn't have the same feel as an out-of-control wildfire).  Now that I am working, I am realizing that texting is actually pretty crucial in the workplace.  My bosses text the employees regularly, and are usually texting about important things (but not always. Sometimes someone gets something about an attractive delivery person).  But normally they are regarding proposal deadlines.  Or the change in location for an event.  Or whether we are going out for lunch.  You know, messages that, if continuously missed, could sort of fuck up my job.  Or lose me some serious money on food (and this is a double whammy because I can really use the free food. As a related side note, this is why I'm thrilled at the prospect of visiting friends at Bryn Mawr.  Four words: Free, Food, Dining, Halls).

Borders.  Okay, not really Borders.  Books.  But I would absolutely buy a Borders if I could afford one.  And I would live in it. 

Crest White Strips.  I have a complex about my teeth.  I don't think that there is actually anything wrong with them, but I don't care.  If I were worse at managing my money, or I had large amounts of it sitting around and gathering dust, I would probably spend an embarrassing amount of it on whitening products.  I think that this is probably the unfortunate result of combining my OCD when it comes to perfectionism, with personal hygiene.  Particularly dental hygiene.  For some reason, I don't have the same attitude towards, say, my hair.  I am totally fine not brushing it very well and yanking it up into a bun that is lopsided and falls down when I walk.  Teeth, though…  I was out of dental floss for the entirety of last week (because I was too lazy to walk all the way out to Rite Aid), and every morning when I woke up I poked my teeth with my index finger because I was scared that not flossing for a week was going to make them fall out.

Booze.  I was going to qualify this, but then decided that "booze" was enough.  Oddly enough, the times when booze would be nicest to have are also the times when, due to extenuating circumstances like POVERTY, it is hardest to come by.

Steak.  Seriously.  I am going to go to the grocery store and I am going to buy steak.  Then I am going to cook it.  Actually…I don't know how since we don't have a grill.  But I will figure it out.  With my superior cooking skills that have so far resulted in a burned hand and a loaf of Irish Soda Bread that could have passed for a pan-sized corn muffin.  Except it didn't actually contain any corn.

I don't know what else.  There is probably more, but those are the things that I can think of right now.  The important things.  Together they form an interesting picture.  That might make me an…interesting person.

UPDATE: Also, I need a new travel mug.  I left mine in the leasing office and it disappeared.


UPDATE 2: I also want a pet.  Except I don't want vet bills.