My mother called yesterday to chat about what she believes is the second Great Depression.
"I'm honestly terrified," she said. "Are you worried? You must be worried! What are you doing right now?"
"Shopping for shoes," I said, frowning at the price tag on a pair of super fab ankle boots.
"Well, I suppose we should boost the economy while we still can," she sighed.
I left the mall empty-handed (well, almost), but it's for the best. I don't shop often, but I can't be spending money that I'm not making right now. I even went as far as hiding my credit card today. If I do take up some form of sex work again, I'm going to be compelled to spend a fortune on clothing/makeup/body care. Someone will pay me, whether or not I'm teetering around in designer stilettos. I have to remember that I don't need to spend money to make money.
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