Therapy Comes in Many Forms

Yesterday, mine came in the form of a pair of Chole buckled leather heels.  I’ve never spent this much on a pair of shoes. In fact, I make it a point not to, due to the amount of shoes I own and also because I’m nowhere in my life where I can afford to. Swinging on the pendulum of  giddy and guilty, I sent a  text to the one person who I knew would make me feel better. Not to disappoint, she text back: That’s a good price! If you like them then it’s okay…as long as you can still save then later she text me cut back on sushi, it’s expensive.

I’m not only doing the fat  thing and eating my feelings but I’m also walking down that midlife crisis road at 26- buying material goods to fill the void temporarily. Shoes, clothing, and accessories are to me what strippers and young boob-enhanced gold diggers are to old rich men. Mines obviously a better choice. My Chole’s aren’t going to turn around and ask me for a new SLK500 convertible, a timeshare or demand more than I’ve already paid. Cash money, bitches.

I really have no idea what that last phrase even means.