Monday, March 24, 2008

Wish I was more like Sinead

I wish I did not want what I haven't got.

There is no reason on earth for me to have a Martin D-41. But, oh, how I want it. Every justification imaginable has passed my thirsty lips. An investment. Resale value is killer. Wanted one since I was 14; that's 41 backwards, so fate is telling me something. The last guitar I'll ever buy. Such a deal on this used one, might never run across such a deal again. Interest sucks so bad right now that I'd make more money on the guitar's appreciation than I'm making on it in the bank. My husband has vowed not to kill me if I buy it. My truck will last at least two more years. Not much makes me happy, this would make me happy. I lost 40 lbs, here's a reward with no calories. Fits my playing style better than a D-28 or a D-35. Swear. Would not be afraid to play it like some people. Still kickin' myself hard for not pulling the trigger on the last used D-41 I passed on. Coulda, shoulda, woulda is for people who don't dream.

It makes me intensely angry that I desire a material thing this badly. Here I am trying desperately to unclutter my life and yet my greed is palatable. I am ashamed.

But I still want it.

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