Saturday, November 27, 2010

For Love or Money -OR- I Feel Great In My Jeans

beloved reader,
Why do you do what you do? Is it because you love it, or is it because it pays well? Do you do a boring lucrative job and have serious hobbies to keep your creativity satiated? Do you give your heart and soul and get paid in hugs and smiles more so than dollar bills(or rupees or pounds or whatevs)? Can you do mindless work without guilt of wasting your precious time on this magnificent earth?

Or, are you the lucky one that has a financially AND emotionally/intellectually fulfilling job? Some days I think, who cares, it's just money, I don't need a lot of it, I'm happy without it. I watched 30 Rock the other night and laughed when Jack Doneghey confidently said," doesn't buy you happiness. Money IS happiness"hahah. I'm not like that, I don't believe that. ???

In my experience rich people aren't that happy, but I won't get into that platitude cause it's incredibly dull and we all know that the sight of a full moon or the taste of a home made cookie is happiness, Blablablabla. Snoresville.  But a new pair of designer jeans is happiness too. Indeed.

I was meeting a friend for dinner and was 10 minutes early. hmmm stores are open late here. what's ten minutes of window shopping? I can't get into trouble in ten minutes, surely.

Forget window shopping, this store's window is badly outfitted, let's just walk in and see the goods. And so I do. I walk in, and the B of days past comes to center stage. I might not be good in maths, kind reader, nor do I have good hand eye coordination. But one thing is for certain: I know how to shop. I really know my way around cuts and fabrics and fit.
And I want a new pair of jeans.

None of my pants fit. Despite my sugar obsession (and I wish I was exaggerating when I tell you my love affair with Indian sweets and bakeries and Cadbury India, but I'm not and my teeth are paying the price, as well as my energy levels), I have dropped a few pounds here and none of my bottoms fit well. so I don't wear pants as much. But Chandigarh is getting cold now (relatively speaking). I need jeans. I need. haha. Yes. It's a need like a need for a pastry or a beer.

And you know what? I bought them. I stopped myself from adding a handbag to the bill, and that was a challenge, since handbags always fit. These skinny jeans won't fit me back in Cheese Land.  Oh wow. They look great, they feel great, and fuck it- so my salary is small, so the jeans were more than half my salary. Should I regret the purchase, or should I be rethinking my job?

 I decide not to feel guilty and focus on why I think its fine and dandy to be OK with getting paid less than I am worth. Money talks. Money talks everywhere in this capitalistic world, of course. But in a corrupt country like India, money shouts and yells. If money could type  IT WOULD IN CAPS.  When I confide to my Indian buddies what I charge (as they say here) they are appalled. Seriously. Sure there are some benefits that I can't do without (room, food allowance, cell paid), yet still. I make less than I ever have, and I'm 32.

I love my kids! I love what I do! But I refuse to regret buying designer jeans! And I refuse to believe that I am a bad person for wanting designer jeans, or believing designer jeans are bringing me happiness. For they are.



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