Day 23: Relapse.

     Well, if I'm going to boast my successes, it would only be fair to admit my failures. Allow me to set the stage. Yesterday, I posted some inspired words about letting go of my possessions to chase something greater. You would think I'd be coming off of a serious 7 high...immune from the consumeristic culture we're immersed in. Not so.

     I told Mike he could pick the restaurant at which we were going to eat...as long as I got a Bubblecake. Bubblecake. The gourmet cupcake shop that is nothing if not irresistable...irresistible...I don't know. Anyhow, I was craving a Creme Brulee cupcake. You know, a vanilla cupcake with creme brulee icing fired with a culinary torch? I could eat another one right now............

     Back to the story. I was tasked with running in to get the cupcake. I jogged through the cold rain, found my cupcake, ordered, paid, and that's when it happened. I looked to my right only to find a pretty little basket filled with the cutest t-shirt I have ever seen. (The cutest one? EVER? Really?! I'm so ridiculous.) It was white, with black three-quarter length sleeves, and a PINK cupcake stamped on the front. It was made of the softest, worn-it-for-ten-years fabric. I could envision myself snuggling in it. I could see myself licking the creme brulee icing off of my fingers while wearing the t-shirt. I had to have it. I felt that feeling welling up inside of me. I must have looked crazy to the saleslady who was staring at my inner struggle.

     I turned my Visa around in my hand. I looked at it. Then, at the t-shirt. At the saleslady. Then, I did it. I RAN. I'm talking full-sprint out of Bubblecake. To passers-by, I'm confident I looked as if I'd just held up the gourmet cupcake shop. I got in the car and said, "Drive." It was like a scene out of a Bonnie and Clyde movie. (I've never actually seen a Bonnie and Clyde movie. This is merely an assumption on my part.) I told Mike about my brief love affair with the shirt. I considered demanding that he turn around and take me back to the cupcake shop. I told him to talk me down!!

     Finally, my precious husband said, "It's JUST A SHIRT! We are fighting against this, Melissa. This is what 7 is all about. Right here. This moment."

     I felt bad. He was right. (This is not a statement I frequently make.) 7 is great when my head is in the game. But, if I let down my guard for 8 seconds, I'm sucked back into the whirlwind. This was the moment when I realized that I'm training myself for the rest of my life. I'm re-writing my attitude toward acquisition. I don't want 7 to be a season. I want it to re-teach me how to live. Because, even if I did just reject the cutest shirt ever in life, I got up this morning and my life was lacking nothing.