Depression, Shopping, And The Meaning Of Life
He wasn’t like some other men who moan and protest the very idea of shopping with their wives. He wouldn’t throw small tantrums at the idea of spending money on beauty, belts, and blouses. He enjoyed strolling around the city streets, feeling the sun warm the concrete, watching the wild array of people and their interactions with the world. But as soon as he would step into a small boutique and close the door behind him, the tinkling of little bells on the door handle was like a Pavlovian cue to feel a different sort of anxiety beyond spending money. For the walls seemed to close in on both him and those sad, tragic characters looking up from their registers, smiling and greeting him with: Hello, is there anything I can help you with today? Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at The Examining Room of Dr. Charles*