The purchase made for an imagined routine may never fit an actual day.
REFLECTION
REFLECTION
Most things get bought for a version of you that does not exist yet. The bread maker belongs to someone with slow mornings, the instrument to someone with a free evening, the gear to a person whose weekends are already different from yours. Buying it feels like taking a step toward that life, which is why the moment of purchase is so satisfying and the object so often untouched.
Before the next purchase, look at last week and find where the thing would actually have fitted. If there is no slot, borrow or rent it once. Buy after the habit exists rather than in the hope of starting one.
What did you buy for a version of yourself who never arrived?
Free, with nothing to buy inside it.