I’m obsessed by it, I love it, I hate it and it’s everywhere. Stuff!
We’ve spent days, weeks, months clearing out our house and still there’s pointless crap everywhere. I don’t get it and I don’t understand how it gathers at the corners of every room: constant, menacing and ever present.
It seems I’m trapped in a desirous quandary, one half of me being drip fedmarketingthat makes me spend hours trawling online clothes shopping sites, telling me that if I buy this dress or those trousers I’ll feel spectacular, and the other half conjuring tantalising images of houses with clean lines and minimal clutter. Then there’s a third half of me (maths never was my strong point) that wants to be rid of these obsessions with living a lifestyle I’ve been conditioned to want to live. Oh and there’s always my wallet calling out that I can’t afford that waistcoat or those clever storage solutions from Ikea.
Last night, after an hour’s aimless lusting over countless outfits I jokingly requested Kev save me from my consumerism, to which he promptly pushed and held down the off button on my laptop. After I’d ranted at him for losing my virtual page in the Next directory (and swore at him on behalf of the techies at work) I was actually pretty glad to have the rest of my evening back. Perhaps just switching off is the key to escaping our lustful thoughts, whether literally or mentally. Taking the time to do something constructive or consider everything you already have is perhaps the key to counteract wanting ever more. Because really, where will it ever end otherwise?
angiecranfield
