I’m sitting outside in a sleeveless dress. I have a few goose bumps but my teeth aren’t chattering and it’s not raining, so I’m not complaining. The last week I would have worn my winter coat if I had it with me. I didn’t have it with me so I was just cold and cranky. Things I used to ignore started to seriously irritate me, like people who hold the door to the metro open and don’t let it leave on time. Like it’s the last metro ever. Like waiting three minutes for the next train is so torturous.

But today’s not so bad. Sure there’s still no sun, and I’m less than a week away from my next tearful airport goodbye. Still, I feel better because I’m not as materialistic as I had feared. I ran out of money about two weeks ago. Not completely, but I spent all the money I had allotted myself for the whole summer before July was half over. Because I wasn’t paying attention the way I should have been, and didn’t choose the right bank account to pay for my plane tickets and my hostel in Berlin.

Being broke is stressful, but I’m lucky enough that all of my necessities are already covered. I paid my metro card until the end of my time in Paris, and Ader doesn’t expect or even allow me to help with rent or groceries. So my only sacrifices are eating out and semi-recreational shopping. Not so bad when you compare my financial woes to other people’s, and when you consider things I’ve said in the past.

“Capitalism sucks.”

“I don’t care about money; I just want to be happy.”

“A shopping addiction is not a real thing. Why are they having an Intervention for this chick?”       

But secretly I was concerned for myself. Not that I really shop that much, and almost never for things that aren’t essential/super useful/gifts for my closest family and friends for worthy occasions. What concerned me was how much I enjoyed buying things, trying on clothes, smelling soaps, testing eyeliners on my hands…Shopping online was a double high, when I finalize my order and again when the package comes in the mail. Trips to Bath & Body Works were always the high light of my day in college. I could not wait to run out of shower gel.

So when I checked my balance and saw it was basically zero, my worry was not that I’d have to starve or sleep on the street or go back to New Jersey. But I was afraid that I was going to have to give up the only pleasure. And how terrible would it be to have to admit: Material items are the only thing that can make me happy?

Fortunately I know now that that’s not true at all. Going back to Montrouge and cooking lunch is not any more painful than waiting three minutes for the next metro. The same crêpe everyday was getting boring anyway. Instead of shopping I’m writing, I’m meeting my friends and hanging out in a park instead of a café, I’m making the most of the short time I have with my boyfriend. Sometimes I can’t keep myself from going into stores. But just looking, imagining buying things satisfies my cravings. Now I’m sure, I’m addicted to nothing.