The money didn't get a chance to manifest in the physical world. Last Friday, I experienced sweet, sweet salary again for the first time in a while and it was devoured in a matter of hours. The near-entirety of it was flushed down the bowels of accumulated card debt before I could even think of ordering sweet, sweet cake.
The transactions looked like trivial subtractions on my banking app. I cushioned my accounts with some balance. I got to donate, and that's all well and good. I even felt grateful for the convenience of it all. What disturbed me was the instant awakening of my slumbering materialism. You know how they say your lifestyle habits adjust to your spending capacity? I definitely felt the adjustment bureau materializing new desires.
Not-spending is my new normal — was my new normal. Except for the one bra I purchased last week (a discounted overrun), I don't think I've shelled out any money since June. And yet the compulsion to accumulate jumped right out of bed like it wasn't just in a 5-month coma.
Stay in your room, spending compulsion, stay. I already made a projection of when I could pay off my debts based on the biggest sum I can set aside every month.
Independence day is on May 2021.
My first thought after coming to this conclusion was: Is this real? I'm gonna have to pay my dues eventually, and there's no better time to do it than when I'm staying with my parents and not paying rent. But boy, do I find it hard to trust myself with the task of delayed gratification. I feel like I don't take myself seriously enough when it comes to commitments. I really should.
By the way, I have an even bigger projection. Japan 2022.