I kinda need to buy something. Anything. It’s just over two weeks in and, to be honest, I’m struggling.
I was playing tennis for the first time in about five years the weekend before last with a tennis racquet kindly donated by friends who are out of the country for a while. We have a set of free tennis courts a few minutes walk from the flat and were surprised at indeed how wholesome and fun tennis can be. I would indeed like to play tennis more often.
Not two hours after returning to my flat after a long session of playing something that might at first glance look like tennis, but on closer inspection was two people desperately trying to ‘keep the ball alive’, I was online looking at tennis racquets. Some of these racquets, dear friends, were reduced by around 75 per cent. Now that is a bargain.
This detox is officially limited to things to wear. However, it will mean nothing if by the end of my two months I have accrued a litany of tennis racquets, placemats and quirky orange juicers. It’d be like trying to kick heroin by taking up crack. But oh, for that sweet rush of exchanging money for superfluous goods.
Truth be told Mavis, I don’t need any of this diversionary stuff. Particularly when I’ve only played tennis twice now in the last five years. And I couldn’t be arsed juicing oranges every day.
And so I have expanded this detox into avoiding purchasing things which are clearly a substitute for the mild but addictive rush of buying my banned items. Does my commitment know no bounds?