My Wants and Needs Go Through Tough Test
Surviving the Black Friday Bonanza
After being bashed to death about the protagonist’s wants and needs by several writing tutors, I had no doubt that I would breeze through the Black Friday week unscathed. There are sooo many things that I want, like traveling to posh destinations and a neck tuck. As these typically don’t go on offer, it’s better if I focus on what I really need now. By being on the verge of becoming a bestselling author with movie deals under my belt, the yearly online subscription to two literary sites sounds like a great plan. I was ready to jump and subscribe earlier, but my lovely fellow writers suggested waiting for their Black Friday offer. Who wouldn’t want that? ‘Great,’ I said and waited.
Day 1: Stream of emails from companies I have accounts with (5) and dozens of others that I had no clue even existed wait in my inbox and pulse. With offers. ‘Bloody cookies,’ I curse and press the ‘bin’ button and then clean my browsing history for the umpteen time in the day with an eye roll. My glance trips over the ceiling lamp that I really need to replace and then pauses on a couple of tired armchairs that need to go. Every time I look at them, which often happens in a day as they are on the way to the kitchen, they disturb my chi. No wonder I’m lagging with my bestseller.
But I’m not browsing for that stuff again. If I did, either I’ll buy something that I won’t really like, or I’ll just keep browsing beyond the Black Friday’s deals and the end of this year. It has happened before. I just don’t buy things in a hurry. The tired armchairs can certify that. And the ceiling light. The hall mirror… Besides, I really need to carry on working on my bestseller while keeping a close eye out for those two special offers to appear that will speed up my way to success. ‘I have a plan,’ I say with a smile, praising my Stoic discipline with a glass of Prosecco. Two. Two and a half glasses.
Day 2: Emails plonk one after another like birds’ droppings and splash their amazing 25%, 50%, 70% discounts. Hand on heart, these are great bargains. Amazing, in fact. Who in the right frame of mind would want to miss them? Shuffling in my chair, I flick through their colorful and bright and cheerful banners. As I stare, my body cells flutter in unison. A little bird lands on the window sill. The angels’ choir softly hums in the background. ‘I’ll just have a look,’ I compromise.
Since buying home stuff is put on hold for the time being (I’m just too busy writing), I open one of my favorite clothing sites out of curiosity. The £11k worth of coat hasn’t miraculously dropped within my price range; it hasn’t budged for a single penny in fact. BUT! But, but, but…the cute top I have parked in my ‘dream box’ months ago, weathering all the sales in the meantime has and is 30% off at last. Also, the pair of jeans and a couple of dresses that I’ve imagined myself in. Only one left of each in my size.
There’s an unusual amount of saliva pumping in my mouth. The screen sways from side to side. I grip the desk with both hands. A disconnect with the world happens, a pause, a quiet one, before I allow a single question to run across my mind like those neon light ads that rotate around skyscrapers’ tops. ‘Should I?’ it says.
I am a writer. A woman writer. Who. Likes. Nice. Clothes. I like looking nice in those nice clothes. It makes me feel good, and when I feel good, everyone around me feels good too. I’m uber nice to hubby. My writing flows. My skin glows. ‘Why not?’ I whisper.
As I scroll through my ‘dream box’ items, drooling, a revelation slaps me across my face. Whenever I’ve been peeking at these clothes (from time to time, of course, and only between, hm-hm, research), they’ve kept me going. They’ve been cheering for me to carry on bashing my brains while connecting D with Y in my scenes. My hand flew over my mouth — what a gigantic insight. From wanted, the ‘dream box’ instantly gets promoted to needed. The stream of consciousness kicks in too. It lingers somewhere along the lines: I have been so disciplined and not only in this lifetime but in all my past lives too that even my psychic is tired of regressing, and life is too short, and I am not getting any younger, and what’s the point of working so hard if… Then I hear a scream. ‘The plan. What about the plan?’
Blah. This, my dear new friends, is the Nagging Voice in my head. We’ve been in a love-hate relationship since I’ve been able to think. Sighing, I throw another look at my ‘dream box’ and then at what I have on. A pair of leggings and a top. My writer’s uniform. In my wardrobe, a ton of lovely things are waiting for me to take them out to a fancy dinner or just dinner, several still with their price tag on. ‘Fine. I’ll stick to the plan, damn it,’ I snap and close my computer.
Day 3: Early in the day, I do buy the annual subscription for the two online literary sites on offer, and I feel great about it. I’ve successfully resisted falling into the retail crap-trap.
Later though, the zipper of my beloved pair of leggings gets stuck. The repairs by now cost me more than buying a new pair. I know because I’ve done it twice already. I pull out a ‘new’ knitted dress that has been living on a hanger for the past three years without getting worn once. It has a couple of man-made, not moth-made holes in it. The jacket rips along the arm seam as I put it on. The soldiers on the battlefield keep falling and piling.
I do not look nor feel n i c e. My hands turn into fists as my eyes close. A thunder (tu-do-doom) breaks in the background, sending my ex-harmonized body cells into a frenzy. Another thunder follows for dramatic effect, and then darkness creeps in. I march to my desk, and as I slide into the chair, I hear the Nagging Voice yelling, ‘Nooo.’
‘Watch me,’ I snap and open the computer.
The Aftermath: As I write this today, I don’t pay any attention to the Cyber Monday and Robotic Tuesday sales that are full-on. I feel exhausted from fulfilling my civic shopping duty. And from trying to shut up the ‘I told you so,’ nag in my head. The first orders have arrived from my Black Friday bonanza blackout shopping. One dress is already back in the post (I looked like a cupcake in it), and the other, it’s unpacked, but I haven’t had the guts to try it on yet. The new zipless leggings have arrived too. I hope they’ll fit because I really need them to be able to follow in comfort my new 1000+ classes online. The first one I’ll dive into will be on the protagonist’s wants and needs.
