First off, I am not a jewelry girl, or a flower girl, or Red Lobster gift card girl. When there is something I want, I buy it, because I am a grown woman with my own bank account. Plus, in general, I usually don’t have a clue what I want until I see it. However, I’m certain it’s probably found in either 1) about 1200 calories worth of brown sugar and cinnamon pop tarts and double stuffed Oreos, or 2) cost $150 worth of random stuff at Target.
If my husband wants to show his love for me he could start by scrubbing the toilets. Acts of service sits pretty high on my love languages. I really love it when my husband vacuums. There is absolutely nothing sexier than carpet triangles. When I’m stressed out he knows the best way to show he loves me and to calm my nerves is to fold the laundry and make sure the wine glasses are all clean.
There, ladies and gentlemen, is the secret to eight years of mostly marital bliss.
I am honestly, the worst person to shop for. I have everything I need and mostly want, still holding out for healthy and affordable fat shrinking pills to come on the market. I also hate spending money on myself. I LOVE shopping for clothes for my children and giving gifts to other people. I’m pretty sure I am solely responsible for keeping the Ralph Lauren outlets open. Christmas is my favorite holiday because PRESENTS. You definitely want me as your Secret Santa. But I just can’t justify an expensive item for myself.
My laptop is a piece of crap held together with two pieces of thread-bare duct tape and a janky hot-wired external keyboard. I like to think of it as a prop in my role as a “broke grad student.” But it works, barely. It’s bulky and scratched. If your elbow lingers too long on one corner it turns itself off. The Internet is too slow to properly watch cat videos on YouTube, and to type a paper it requires balancing a secondary keyboard on top of the attached keys like I am a savage or something. I do go to a public university, but this laptop is borderline ridiculous. I have been meaning to buy a new one for a while but timing never works out, either a new semester starts or money is needed for something stupid, like surgery on a broken arm. The universe basically hates me that way.
Plus, they are super expensive, and I really do try to be good stewards of our resources. If I had to rank financial priorities I would say obligations, family, charity, education, investments, vacations and entertainment, goats for children in Africa, music lessons for our neighbor’s dog Rufus, and somewhere after potato salad recipe research is myself.
I am about to finish school, only one more semester left. My husband asked me what I wanted for a graduation gift the other day when a grad packet postcard arrived in the mail. I thought about it for a while, and certainly the incentives of extra sleep and not being on three different anxiety medications for stress after being done with school will be enough, it’s kind of hard to say no a celebratory gift. I am a millennial, after all, celebrating mediocrity IS in my DNA. So, I told him that if he really loved me, the mother of his children, that he could buy me a MacBook.
And also to leave extra carpet triangles the next time he vaccuums.