Worry

I hate that I’ll worry endlessly about whether I should buy something for myself, going back and forth like it’s a major life decision, and then turn around and casually throw money away at a casino without a second thought. Then I end up regretting it, not even because I lost, but because I could’ve just bought the thing I actually wanted—something real that would still exist instead of disappearing in five minutes under fluorescent lights. It makes no sense, and yet I keep doing it.