Pandemic Purchases

At first it was easy. 

All it took was a wee pick-me-up here and there to sustain me, make me feel a little better about myself and my life, keep me going through this pandemic. It started with guilty little pleasures, like a $1 cup of Famous Amos cookies that would get squirreled away in the back of the pantry or splurgier Circus Animal Cookies, which were stored (as they should always be) in the freezer. Problem was, they were too exposed and teenagers discovered them, so I lost three-quarters of a bag before I’d even scarfed one pink elephant. 

But, I realized, feeding your feelings isn’t healthy. In more ways than one. 

So I moved on to a $14 battery-operated scalp massager to use while shampooing my hair, on those rare occasions that I shower. 

Then I spent $36 on acrylic shelf organizers and clear boxes, so I could at least get my excessive T-shirt collection and pajamas under control. 

Then stupid Athleta had to go and have a good sale and if I had nice, new shorts then working out wouldn’t suck as much, right? And this would be a purchase toward bettering myself and being healthy so I deserve a treat!

Then I snagged a pair of leopard-print cross-trainers for the exact same reason.

Next, I bought beautiful leather shoes because … Well, I said shoes! Need I say more? No. Shoes require no justification.

Then I got a banjolele because — hello, a ukulele AND a banjo together?! — learning a new skill, like playing an instrument, can stave off dementia later in life and give me a much-needed indoor activity right now since I still can’t figure out the TV remotes. I figure this can probably be written off as a medical expense. 

It’s weird how my self-care can look a lot like binge shopping.

And it keeps getting worse. Because now I think what will cure the hole in my heart and psyche over the endless suckiness of 2020 is … a portable pizza oven!

I learned about this crazy, Star Wars-robot-looking contraption — as I’ve learned about all amazing things that become obsessions — from Instagram. I mean, if Tyler Florence has one …

I’ve done some initial research, and they seem pretty flippin’ awesome. Such awesomeness doesn’t come cheap, though. We’re talking at least a couple hundred dollars and most likely $500. Woof.

The other downside is it is circling back to the eat-your-feelings method of coping but honestly, doesn’t every road lead back there anyway? I’m thinking I can probably devise some sort of pizza oven timeshare agreement. Who’s with me?!

**At one point I thought this could be a promising pandemic pick-me-up. I went with a bra instead.**

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