I had decided to stay away from my computer, out of my car, to buy nothing.
I managed one out of three. Me! Who sometimes doesn't get in a car for a week at a time, relying instead on two feet or two pedals. Me, who is still wearing a t-shirt I bought in 1994.
By 8:13 yesterday morning, I was on the phone with my father, arranging to go to his (unpowered and unplumbed) cabin for the day – with a stop at a favourite restaurant for breakfast on the way.
Eight thirteen. Oy.
I'm trying really hard not to feel like a failure about it, and I'm helped greatly by the success of the day in every other way. I read most of a really good (entertaining and informative and thought-provoking) book – Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Had a great time with my dad, reading him bits that made me laugh out loud while he read me bits from his newspaper. Listened to the kingfisher working the bay and the eagle trilling from its treetop perch and the rain on the cabin roof. I came home refreshed (and slightly damp).
And hell, Dad bought breakfast.