I have completely and royally fucked my budget up the ass.
Sorry for the graphic language, guys. But I mean, really. REALLY. There's no other way to put it, when I look at the negative numbers in some of my categories.
The sad and simple truth: I have a shopping problem.
It's just...I need SOME SORT OF COMFORT.
I can't eat my feelings anymore.
And I'm not dating, or having sex.
So what does that leave when I'm sad or stressed or seething?
Shopping.
Maxi skirts and workout tanks and a necklace and a sweater and a jacket and music. OH MY.
Oh myyyy.
If I keep myself from shopping, GOD ONLY KNOWS what habit I might pick up next. Meth. Drag racing.
Or something even worse.
Something healthy.
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