These are not my work shoes, but mine might be getting close to this.
I first heard the term “under-buyer” years ago on Gretchen Rubin’s “Happier” podcast. Rubin has all kinds of tests that are designed to help you know yourself better. Apparently, there are two types of folks in the world: under-buyers and over-buyers. Over-buyers, according to Rubin, are “stressed because they’re hemmed in by stuff. They don’t have enough storage space or they can’t find what they have.” Under-buyers, on the other hand, “feel stressed because they don’t have the things they need. They’re surrounded with things that are shabby, don’t really work, or aren’t exactly suitable.”
I am an under-buyer.
Which means that sometimes my things are a little shabby.
One look at the work shoes I’ve been wearing the past few years would convince you of this. They have not been shiny for as long as I can remember and are gradually coming unsewn. I’ve been trying, honestly, to find new ones. But everything I have found so far hurts my feet. I’ve bought and then had to return two pairs of black work shoes so far (Zappos! DSW!) which is painful, not only for my feet, but because it is disappointing and time consuming to keep shipping things back and forth, since I found both of them online.
My work shoes are not the only things falling apart. A perfect storm of falling apart things hit my life this month.
In this season of giving, I have found myself spending an annoying amount of money. On myself.
This is partly because I have the Kohl’s sale calendar memorized. Every year, they mark down their unmentionables (aka underwear) on Black Friday to the lowest prices of the year. So every year for the past few years, I’ve sprung for much needed new unmentionables. I also wear my running shoes longer than I should, so I finally purchased a new pair of running shoes, too. Thankfully, my new running shoes fit, partially because I order the exact same model every time. I will be in trouble if the shoe company ever decides to “improve” my shoe model, because inevitably those changes make it so that the shoes don’t fit me right anymore.
What else did I need that I bought recently?
A new Costco comforter, because I realized that the one on my bed was fifteen years old and wasn’t doing the job anymore. I was waking up cold. A new comforter is much cheaper in the long run than running the portable heater in my room at night.
A specialty birdfeeder, because the bear ate my other one, and I was tired of the jays and big birds hogging the feeder that I do have. The new one is designed especially for smaller birds.
New ears. (Well. Not exactly) But I finally had an appointment to get established with a new ear doctor after four months of waiting, and there were several co-pays that went along with that, along with a surprising charge because he kindly offered to dewax my ears. I assumed that this would be part of the visit, but that one minute procedure added a surprising amount to my bill.
Finally? A pair of black work pants, because my old ones were purchased when my college graduate daughter was in third grade.
Rubin encourages under-buyers to “buy what you need, without procrastination! Don’t wait for your ski trip to buy ski gloves!”
I did not enjoy this shopping, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. Luckily for me, just about all of those purchases were made online. Because I would rather stick a candy cane in my eye (apparently this is my new favorite saying) than go to the mall at this time of year. The truth is that nobody else can buy shoes or unmentionables or pants for me. I wish there was a way to make this easier. Maybe simply following Rubin’s advice, “to buy what I need without procrastination”? To remember that I matter. Because making sure that I have sturdy shoes, work pants, a warm comforter and healthy ears is an important part of taking care of myself.
(And the hunt for work shoes continues.)
