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The Den Mother’s Last Hoorah

Thursday, December 30, 2010, 11:10 EDT Leave a comment Go to comments

Don’t worry; I’m not shutting down the blog. I wouldn’t do that to my tens of loyal readers. 😉

The last hoorah to which this post title refers was my final treat to myself before I officially become a homeowner next month and am reduced to eating dog food so I can make the mortgage payment. Yesterday after work, I went to my friend Ann’s spa and had a luxurious hour-long facial. It cost money I really can’t afford, but since it will be a very long time before I will be able to indulge in something so frivolous again, I didn’t hesitate.

Lying there on the contoured spa table, a warm soothing mist wafting over my face, I couldn’t help but think about a future in which what constitutes pampering will involve wrapping myself in an afghan to fend off the chill because I’m too cheap to turn the heat up over 62°. While my tired facial, neck, and shoulder muscles were gently massaged, I contemplated the uninviting prospect of collapsing, exhausted and aching, into bed after a tedious Saturday of washing windows, raking leaves, or cleaning gutters. As the hydrating mask was applied, I thought about the frigid winter hours I will spend snowblowing my driveway while the biting wind chaps my cheeks. When I wrote the check for the fee and slipped the aesthetician a cash tip, I realized that the next time I spend that much money on something I really could live without, it will be for three months of DirecTV.

Then I started thinking that if I got a part-time job, maybe a couple of evenings a week at Barnes & Noble, I might still be able to indulge myself on occasion. And the loss of free time would be worth it.

Such are my thoughts these days, weighing what I’m giving up versus what I’m getting. As I have said to various friends and relatives recently, this whole home purchase thing is a bit terrifying to me. Once the deal is done, though, I have a feeling it will be strangely liberating, or as liberating as it can be to wallow in debt to my eyeballs until I retire.

Ow, there goes that twinge in my neck again. If only I could afford a massage…

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