a honey jar, a nest egg

* * * journal excerpts, March 20 * * *

As fast as I said I wasn't spending any money, I bought 5 skeins of petrol blue yarn and a sweater pattern from Quince and Co. (copying Emily). But I've also started a blender fund in an old honey jar with a white metal lid, and currently the game of saving odd cash, misering it away, is more engaging that the prospect of the blender itself. Soon I will have a cache. It's good for me to be earning money. I have already paid Tim back nearly all I owe him. On my next trip to the bank, I'll withdraw a last installment and never borrow money from him again, if I can help it.

* * *



Something of note today: I bought yarn when I was fully intending to buy clothes. Why? I want to DO things. To a certain extent, with certain kinds of items, the more I buy, the less I do. Clothes, jewelry, cosmetics and housewares all fit into this category at times. I feel the need to mold my life to fit the new luxury, rather than employing the luxury to enhance my life and my work. On the other hand, fresh vegetables of varieties I've never bought before, fresh flowers, materials for building things, books--these I know how to use, and they do not leave me with an ill-defined sense of guilt, pressure, and unease.

* * *

For a week now, though, I have been much more interested in reading novels and poems than doing anything else. (Today I stayed in pajamas.) I've also been working. I feel drunk on money, ready to lay a gin-fertilized nest egg. Despite my inclinations, a final plunge into schoolwork before freedom announces itself in less than a month . . .