here's how this experiment is forcing me to confront the difficult question of what i "need".
i run out of things.
and because i've agreed to buy only essentials this year, i have to make a tough call almost daily. should i replace my empty bottle of mouthwash? do i really NEED mouthwash?
some things are unquestionably essential: toilet paper. toothpaste. other things are unquestionably luxuries: necklaces. bubble bath. but there is a third class of thing that straddles the line between "essential" and "luxury". mouthwash is but one example. tupperware is another. do without them, and my day has the potential to become logistically unsound. buy them, and i feel like i'm cheating.
and the reality is, anything could be considered a "want" rather than a "need." the question always comes back to just how hardcore i want to get. for example, lightbulbs. i'd say "essential"; some would say "excuse me?" it's totally fair to ask, well, wondrous sophini, why can't you take your lightbulbs out, and just live by natural light during the day, and candlelight after dark? and my answer is, "because, UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH. THAT'S WHY."
i'm finding in many cases, "need" has become synonymous with "have become accustomed to and will get all whiney without."
if i may.
i am the sort of person who has, for many years, used cotton balls to apply moisturizer to my face. yes, this is unnecessary, and no, a thing of smunched up toilet paper is not the same. it's a lady thing. just go with it. last week, i ran out of cotton balls. and i could not justify buying more. so i didn't.
then a few days ago, i went to use the pools at body blitz after work. when i was done, i briefly used the vanity room to comb out my hair. and lo, i spotted a giant glass fishbowl overflowing with cotton balls, just there for the using. "hello!" they seemed to say with their weird cotton mouths that they for sure do not have. so i used one for some moisturizer, this overly-complicated procedure ironically reminding me of a simpler time known as 2010.
at that point, no big D, but i may or may not have suddenly stuffed a fistful of 25 cotton balls down the front of my pants, and booked it out the front door into the cold january air.
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