I am not ashamed to admit that I am afraid. Even though I have no right to be. I am spending hours on my new PSP. Wasted hours. Hours that could be spent doing something productive. Hours that could be spent rooted in a reality. And I need – yes, I need – an Ipod. How did I become so shamelessly materialistic?

My mother gave me an early birthday present – a new bed with a soft mattress and a purple bedstead. It took the delivery men almost an hour to assemble it. ‘A young lady like you should have a man to do this for you,’ one of them said.

Insulted? Flattered? I think, for once, I’ll opt for the latter.

And the debts keep accumulating.

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