Melting the Ice

My credit card has been frozen for about three weeks now.

I mean, literally frozen. It resides in my freezer, in a ziploc full of ice, and I can't use it mainly because I never remember to take it out and let the sucker melt. So far, it's the most successful way I've found to stop me from whipping that sucker out and willy-nilly using it. But today, I really want to use it.

I really want to buy a rosy-pink lipgloss--I even had a dream about it last night. And I really want some new headphones for my iPod. And maybe some shoes. I really have a strong craving for boots right now. And then there's the growing pile of alterations. Allz I'm saying is I could use some credit.

It doesn't take much to see that I could just wait till payday in a few days and walk down to the local electronics store to get headphones, or the lipgloss, or even--gasp!--not get them all together, since it's pretty clear they're not essential. It's more than I want something to do. I feel like I'm engaged in some kind of weird consumption-based meditation: looking at my whirling dervish of desire and holding off on acting on it, just watching it, waiting to see how and why it wants to be acted upon.

I'm really just looking for something to fill my time, to give me something to do, for some evidence that I had something.

And wow, that even reads pathetic, doesn't it? I remember reading once, in a book I bought during one of the 16 million times I tried to straighten out my relationship to money, that not only should I log daily spending, but how I felt when I bought something. Was I sad, happy, looking to numb something, etc--and it was really right on advice, because I am an emotional spender. The only problem? All emotions trigger the desire to shop. Hell, breathing triggers the desire to shop. Even now, it's hard to control the desire to leap out of my chair and head down to the local thrifty, despite the fact that I have $20 in my checking, a frozen credit card, and have literally run out of hangers in my closet.

If anyone is reading this, and can identify with it: how did you conquer/ live with/ compassionately engage your emotional shopping? I am not out to beat it into submission, or to move from shopping once a week to a Compact-style lifestyle--although I think it rawks and those who can, mazal tov--but rather to understand with hippie-dippie love, so that frugality becomes not about punishment, but a celebration of values and virtues. (Sorry about that painfully long sentencem y'all. I do abuse the poor comma.) I want warm and fuzzy frugality. Frugality that's about expansion, not contraction. Celebratory frugality!