*stands up* Hi. My name's BeX, and I'm a shopaholic.
Seriously, it's insane. Every time I go to Matalan or Asda I end up buying something. Okay, so at least their clothing is cheap, so I'm spending vast amounts of money on vast amounts of things (and if the stuff wasn't cheap, then obviously I wouldn't be buying it) and it's not my fault that Matalan has a turnover on new products faster than I can keep up with it. Nor is it my fault that Matalan keep getting in brand new Falmer stock and I happen to be Falmer-shaped when it comes to buying trousers, which is fine by me because they're all really nice...
I'm spending less than I'm earning, in all fairness. I get about £230 a week and I'm spending about £30 - £50 whenever I go on random splurges. So it's not that bad. I'm still not sure if I've cleared my overdraft yet but I'm probably getting close (having to spend £36.50 a month on a bus pass notwithstanding; the sooner I sort that direct debit out, the better) and then I can apply for a credit card and... does anyone else think that sounds like a bad plan?
What worries me is the possible reasons behind my expenditure. What are the reasons behind any unfathomable addiction? I've been known to go on spending splurges before (mostly when I didn't have the money to throw away, so I suppose this is slightly better in that I'm earning enough to cover it) because gratuitous spending and shopping for nice things you don't need makes you feel better, whether that's clothing, shoes, DVDs, music, tickets to things, tattoos, whatever. It's a rush.
And shopping has lately become a way of blocking everything else out, much as my MP3-er has. I've been taking a stupid longer route into work the past few days - not least because walking down Soho Road at 8.00 in the morning has revealed a couple of gorgeous sunrises over the city in the distance; one of these days I'm going to remember to take my camera with me everywhere I go - just to extend my listening-to-music time. It doesn't even have to be specific music, I've just found myself wanting to block reality out for a while with my own personal soundtrack, especially when the lyrics become strangly synchronistic to my thought patterns at the time, or my surroundings.
It's not that I'm not enjoying my job. I am enjoying it: the people are friendly, I've managed to build a rapport with everyone in the office, I'm good at what I do and people know about it, and they've offered me the position on a higher salary (or will do eventually, preferably sooner rather than later so I'm free of the damned agency) for a fixed contract of six months, though that's obviously going to be negotiable because they need the typists. But can I see myself still there in a year? In six months, even? I don't know... there are prospects when you work in the council, certainly, but this was meant to be a temporary position to get enough money behind me to fund whatever I want to do properly in the future, be that partaking in proper courses for web design, getting the appropriate means to learn it in my own time, or simply fleeing the country. Temping was simply a means of saving enough to have options. Becoming a permanent worker was never part of that equation, and I'm going along with it because it's easier, and because - frankly - I want the money.
I've not been livejournalling much lately. I've been too drained and complacent to maintain my usual level of spammage, and too tired to string coherent thoughts together. Most of my posting has been on the MH community because I'm indulging my new obsession whilst not inflicting it on the rest of you - yeah, you should be grateful, really - and it feels like I've been posting a lot more than I really have. Nothing particularly interesting is happening in my life that I would want to tell people about; the only interesting thing is whatever the heck's developing with Ben, and posting about that would lead - as this has done - to longer ramblings about related issues.
But, yeah, the thing with Ben... is confusing. I'm having issues and spazzing completely (though less than I was about three weeks ago after the picnic-that-never-was) and I can see exactly the same thing happening as happened last time, and I don't want to go through that again. It was frustrating and exhausting enough the first time around, when I didn't really understand why it was happening; now I do, at least as far as I'm concerned, and that'll make it even worse.
I may expand on that confused mess of crypticness at some point. Right now, I don't think I have the energy to put the thoughts in order.
And the other thing is that ever niggling reminder that Katie - wonderful, fabulous Katie - is offering me this whole other life out there with her in her coffeeshop. She sent me this text/email the other night: "Maybe I should quit, open Minhkatia early next year. We always planned
on opening in 05. Maybe its a sign." She's right. We did always say 2005 would be the year of the Grand Opening. And maybe it won't be fully furnished and beautiful inside; maybe it'll just be a box with a coffee machine and a couple of chairs, but dammit, it'll be our box, and we have to start somewhere.
And I would willingly drop everything right now and go out there, but I can't. There's so much else I want to do before I get there; there's so much else I need to do, and so much else she has to do to live her own dream, which she's included me into without question. People question why I can call a girl I've never even met who lives on the other side of the world my best friend. I question why the Hell I shouldn't. Within an hour of chatting to me she'd told me one of her deepest secrets; there was a time when she knew more about me than anyone, though that's probably not the case now because of lack of communication; she was one of the few who kept me sane when I started Uni, and she was the one who pulled me up when I was so, so close to ending it all. I've maintained for many years that I don't believe in best friends; the entire concept is stupid, especially early in secondary school when friendships are transitory and mostly fickle. I would consider all of my friends my best friends; some better than others, depending on how well they know me, how well I know them, how long we've known each other, and all sorts of other factors. But Katie and I agreed that we would be best friends, and that's how it's been for five years.
I promised her I'd join her in her dream of opening that coffeeshop, that I'd be waitress by day and struggling author by night, and even to this day it's exactly what I can see myself doing. I'll keep that promise, certainly. But I have things I need to do, things I want to do, before I can even consider it. I want to meet her, first and foremost, either out there or over here. I want her to show me her home town; I want to show her mine. I want my first glimpse of the States and her first glimpse of the UK to be the Big Meet. But other than that, before I go, I have to know that people will forgive me for running away. I have to make sure that the people I love will still keep in touch; I have friendships that survived a separate-city basis, so why should a six-hour time lag make any difference? I have to make sure that people who need me know I'm still there, if not in person. I have to make sure that what I'm going to is worth everything I'll leave behind - the big things and the little things - and more than all of this, I have to be completely, utterly sure it's where I want to be.
I've been sure of that for quite a while, but until I know... I can't do anything. It's an impractical plan that needs some serious consideration, and some serious effort and time put behind it. We extended the deadline to 2006. Anything could happen by then.
I'm quite curious as to how I got onto that from shopaholicism, but I suppose it proves my point that it's simply a way of stopping myself from thinking too hard about anything. That's the tip of the iceberg, as coherently as I can manage, of one issue currently clouding my brain. The other issue I will probably post about in due course, when I feel the need to finally vent. Until then... I'll leave it as my own personal problem, which I can hopefully sort out without the help of anyone else. However, be warned, I may randomly post another insanely long entry requesting lots of advice.
And now, I need to go to bed.