binge

i have been experiencing a very strong desire to shop lately. this is a bit out of character and a bit more alarming. i am passing it off as a need for spring/summer clothing because my wardrobe quite yearns for a hint of coordination and flair. unfortunately, shopping without money is just as difficult as it sounds, i am learning. i go to stores. all the time. i find adorable coordinating sets of shorts and capris and sporty little tank tops that i feel i simply must have. but i usually leave with only the fantasy of white sling-back sandals to wear with the mesh warm-up capris and matching track jacket. none of these things will be mine. it's a bit like attempting to have a late-night binge on apples and carrot sticks. or trying to go on a weekend bender with only a four-pack of bartles and james. the compulsion is there, the motives are complicated but honest, but the effect lacks sincerity.

so i binge on the clearance rack, which is a lot like eating a midday meal at an all-your-stomach-can-contain-without-killing-you buffet. it looks like a wide variety at first, but you soon recognize that everything looks (smells, tastes) the same and none of it is actually attractive but you eat/buy it because it's there and you can. so i now own a number of shirts that i bought for approximately 4 to 6 dollars because everyone else appropriately determined that they were inadequate garments. this is exactly how i feel when i settle for iceberg lettuce and ranch dressing at a crusty diner somewhere between here and minneapolis. these people play pretty fast and loose with words like "mixed" and "green". or when i agree to a busch light at a party because it suggests a lack of gratitude when you bring your own beer after reading an invitation that says: "beer and soda will be provided." well, around here it would probably read "beer and pop will be provided."

perhaps i just really want to eat and drink and shop a lot. this may be how i celebrate spring. i have never considered it before, but an all-inclusive binge is very likely how i have always reacted to the strain of new growth and recurring disappointment. no, that's not it exactly. maybe the tendency has been a pattern but the object of my desires certainly changes. i did survive one particular spring solely by the sustenance that tanqueray and grapefruit juice have to offer. (i want really badly to justify that behavior. but it was a very bad idea and one that i won't repeat.) and there were a few times in my adolescence that milky ways and curly fries provided the emotional support i needed to drag me into summer. but all of that was a long time ago. now i write and window shop. compulsively, i admit. but the improvement is obvious, right?