What do you wear to an intervention?

I used to go to confession on Good Friday. But, I think this will have to suffice . . .

I took my kids to the local mall yesterday.
If I actually have to step inside the place, it is usually with a Purpose. And an hour is really the most I can bear in the windowless, timeless world of retail.
But not yesterday.
Yesterday Jonathan and I were killing time waiting for Lucy and her friend, Alison to shop for dresses. And all I really needed was a new battery for my phone.

There is a Reason why I can't spend much time in the world of you-really-won't-be-good-enough-unless-you-have-this.

I thought, "oh good, a kitchen store! I will just pop in and get a new whisk."

For anyone who is a serious shopper, you're already recognizing that that statement there was TOTALLY delusional!
No one is just going to buy a WHISK at Williams Sonoma.
It is state of the art EVERYTHING for the kitchen.
And in my weakened condition. . .
The assault began slowly, with whisks and spatulas and then cake pans until it reached a crescendo of cooking splendor surrounding me. My eyes sort of glazed over and I could hear a loud humming in my brain as time stood still when I saw all those beautiful blenders in EVERY COLOR.

I'm pretty sure my heart actually STOPPED.
[heavy sigh]

Jonathan dragged me out of the store when I started to worship at the altar of the Most Magnificent Espresso Machine of All. (If only I had an extra $2000. . .)

It was at that point that I started to get seriously depressed.

What would happen if we had TV to taunt us? (we don't) And what if we went to the mall all the time? (we don't)
How do people do this?
I would be suicidal.
Jon noticed my bloodshot eyes and slight foaming around the mouth and thought of something that always cheers me up....
Technology!

But the damage had been done.
And when the cute little featherweight MacBook started calling to me. . . "Marta! You NEED me!"
Well, that put me right over the edge.
I was seriously in trouble here.
I would probably be needing paramedics with paddles yelling "Clear!"

So I started praying "foxhole" prayers: "God, if you get me out of this place alive with my wallet intact, I swear I'll never again covet my neighbor's goods..."
But then the little Mac must have heard, because it snapped our picture in Photo Booth and let me do THIS:

And I LIKED it.
And I coveted once again.
Oh, the guilt.
And it was Good Friday, too.
But was I repentant?
Nooo. I was PLAYING!
(blush, blush)