Too Many Spy Movies
From the couch, I could hear the muted thunk of something colliding with my front door. It surprised me because I wasn’t expecting any packages; hadn’t ordered anything in quite a while. I was saving to move out of my depressing two-bedroom apartment. I often pictured a time, long before I moved in, where the paint was fresh on the once-white-walls and the appliances were new. Now, the walls were a sickly beige hue and my dishwasher worked only if I kicked it a few good times. My only reprieve was that the window in the living room faced a shallow wooded area, separating the building from a park. Instead of looking at parked cars, I sometimes watched the deer, birds and the occasional fox interact with nature while I had my morning coffee. So yeah, I cut back on my spending — i.e., no more Amazon shopping sprees.