Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Not sure I could make it through a day without it...

Today is “Break Bread Wednesday” when my work friend S and I go out to lunch and refuse to talk about work (except for idle work gossip, which is like our appetizer.)  Deciding where to go is always an ordeal and today S wanted healthy so she suggested this fabulous Italian deli up the street. Delicious? Absolutely (the porchetta sandwich is to die for – I crave it.) Healthy? No so much. I point this out and her response was, “Well, they use no artificial ingredients. Isn’t that healthy?” 

And this is one the reasons we are friends.

Let’s face it – no one can really get through the day without a good rationalization (yep, paraphrasing from The Big Chill, one of the best movies ever.)  It’s that kind of “la, la, la, I don’t hear you,” that lets us enjoy something without the guilt or remorse.

I can tell you that right now, I have two shopping bags saved online. Neither contains anything frivolous – in fact, I really do need some clothes and shoes. But for some reason, I cannot hit “proceed to checkout.”  What I really need is T to tell me that she’s seen my closet and that it continues to scare the crap out of her that I really could use some flattering new stuff and that the prices really are great.  What’s funny is that it could be a tutu skirt with glitter for “mini me” and I could find 10 reason why it is necessary.

Now, overall, I'm pretty bold and confident. I really don't know why I need to rationalize doing something for myself (those are biggest rationalizations.)

Just ask my Big Susan M.  I whined, bitched and moaned about buying a house for a very long time (probably seemed like forever to M.)  But M just keep pushing, needling and cajoling me along – I was doubting myself the whole time. I think M was the least surprised when I finally forged ahead. Bless her for not saying, “I told you so.”

During my recent shopping expedition with T, I kept saying that I could not rationalize buying this and that. T just nodded and kept putting them both in the cart, finally saying they were completely unrelated items, both a great price and to just shut up – insisting I didn’t need a reason. It hurts to admit that she was right – I love them both.

Not long ago, I found the perfect lamp for my living room. I was alone so no one was around to be my crutch. I simply couldn’t rationalize spending the $65. That’s right, only $65. I wasted more on less – mostly on crap that I can’t even recall. A week later that lamp was gone and I’ve been kicking myself since.  A good rationalization would mean that lamp would have been in my living room – where it belongs!

Even my pool guy rationalizes with me.  “Just get the auto-filler already,” he sounds exasperated. “You will save by not burning out your pump during the winter months (uh, I’m not out there and don’t always remember to check the water level and then he has to deal with the aftermath) and you can always turn it off in the summer when you’re in the pool every day.”  He’s installing it next week and I’m sure he goes home and tells his wife about the dumbass around the corner.

I think that sometimes our friends give us the courage, the shove or simply the perfect rationalization to do something we wouldn’t always have the balls to do. And, this is not always bad. Sure, there are instances where I’ve been talked into that extra shot or that questionable piercing (ewwww…not there) but I can look back and see that in many instances, I was pushed by friends into doing what needed to be done or what I really wanted to do. 

So, it turns out – I can go without caffeine. I can go without privacy in the bathroom. I can go way too long without a mom’s night out.  I can go without an iPad, iPhone and any other i-device.  But, I cannot go without a rationalization.  Can you?

No comments:

Post a Comment

YOur comments and/or story about your Big Susan are most welcome but don't hide behind "anonymous". If you have something to say - by all means say it - but stand behind your comment with a recognizable name.