Now when I first came up to England, I have saved enough money that if I wanted to I could have boughted an iPod.
Alright, let me rephrase that. I had the money, but I stopped myself because I had a feeling that spending the money was going to pauper me too early in the dance; and I was right.
Except, that it hurt me tremendously to do it, because after my iPod died in 2003, in the midst of all that stupid PHG drama (if ya still reading scrotum tick, fuck you still!), I was devastated and my life has never been the same. No joke.
Here in England, because a goodly part of my day is spent travelling to and from somewhere, the lack of auditory enhancement has been deadly boring.
Around Christmas time, when I had just finished working at the mortgage company in Bromley, I bought a Sony Discman, but you know, once you go digital, the drama of changing CDs on the move is a pain in the ass.
So now that I am a working woman (I GOD! Meh love the sound of that!!) and being well compensated for it, naturally my iPod lust is kicking up dust all around me.
Of course, the fact that iPods are ubiquitous on the tube and on trains does not improve. I find I am terribly jealous everytime someone whips out one all cavalier and nonchalant-like.
So of course, since last week when I knew I was getting paid every week for the next month, I’ve just been gagging on my need to iPod myself to death.
Chile, I am struggling to control myself and I think I am this close to losing the battle of pragmatism. I think, therefore iPod.
See the thing is, I’m not even interested in a deal. I want to walk into the Apple Store in Regent St, and plunk down meh cash and walk out with my iPod and an OFFICIAL Apple Store receipt. I feel so pitiful.
I’m just horny for one. A big ass 40GB one too. (Actually I’m horny in general, but specifically for one of these sexy little fuckers.)
Somebody talk me out of it, nah?
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