Silly rabbit, credit cards are for adults.
Oh, but the lure of shiny new plastic... so hard to resist.
No more shopping for me for the rest of the year. And next year too, for that matter. At least until I sell off one or two books and can start living like the 30-something I am. Or rather, am supposed to be.
In other news, I watched as an autobody fellow plunged a screwdriver into the rust of our car -- cringing as the probe slid cleany into the rust on the lower panels and the wheel wells, while little chunks of old, diseased car crumbled off into the dirt. Pitiful.
One day, I will look upon this period in my life and laugh.
(Oh, who am I really kidding? I already think it's funny.)
No more shopping for me for the rest of the year. And next year too, for that matter. At least until I sell off one or two books and can start living like the 30-something I am. Or rather, am supposed to be.
In other news, I watched as an autobody fellow plunged a screwdriver into the rust of our car -- cringing as the probe slid cleany into the rust on the lower panels and the wheel wells, while little chunks of old, diseased car crumbled off into the dirt. Pitiful.
One day, I will look upon this period in my life and laugh.
(Oh, who am I really kidding? I already think it's funny.)
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