the art of spending money

I had a breakthrough in August: I spent almost my entire paycheck in Tokyo, literally down to my last 20,000 yen ($200) to get me through the final week and a half until I was paid again. I had savings that I could have dipped into and then replenished the next month, but that was besides the point. I'm a compulsive saver. Spending big amounts of money on things that aren't necessities or long-term investments freaks me out. I always expect to end up thinking later, "If only I hadn't spent that money frivolously!"

In August, I vacationed in Tokyo. Twice. Once with my friend Amanda, and once after the English Camp I worked in Nagano. The first time, I had reservations at a hotel. The second time, I crashed on a friend's couch the first night and migrated between beds in Sakura Hostel in Asakusa the next few nights. On the vacation with Amanda, there was something of an agenda. On the second run through Tokyo, I had no plans whatsoever.

I worry a lot about wasting time as well as money. I worry that if I sit around not doing things, I'll feel like I missed out on opportunities later. The thing is, though, if it's a million degrees outside and I'm exhausted from camp and the heat and the walking around Tokyo, it's not actually a waste of time to sit around in the Sakura Hostel lobby scrolling through Tumblr for three hours. It's an investment in my sanity. You'd think that'd be obvious, and to my brain, it is. To my instincts, it's not.

Except here's what happened: I had a good time in Tokyo, both times. The second time (the un-scheduled time) I visited Yoyogi Park and got pictures of Rockabillies. I strolled through the side streets of Harajuku and found excellent opportunities for pictures. I found Kitchen Street in Asakusa and spent a couple hours dreaming of a giant kitchen into which I fit ALL THE COOKING THINGS. I had lunch in Takeshitadori. I lost my phone, and then found it. I stayed out late remembering how much I love the insanity of cities. I spent money and wrote it off as, "Fuck it, I'm on vacation. I've already budgeted $200 for the last two weeks. I'll be fine."

And I was. I spent an absurd amount of money in Tokyo, twice, did not at all contribute to my personal savings, and nothing bad happened.

This month, I realized that my matchbox-sized Leopalace apartment isn't gonna cut it, and that I deserve to have space that I can spread my arms in and decorate. The thing is, though, I'll likely have to wait until March/April for decent vacancies to open up, and it's better to move after I know what schools I'll be working at so I don't end up moving someplace inconvenient. That leaves me with another 6 months in Leopalace. And although I know I shouldn't invest too heavily in my decor in Leopalace since I'm just gonna move in half a year, I know now that this doesn't mean I have to continue feeling disheartened by the utter blandness of my surroundings. Just because I plan to leave this place doesn't mean I can't invest in how I enjoy my time here now.

This weekend, I went out and bought curtains. And a vase. And some plastic leaves for the vase. And a super-soft blanket, to put on the sofa/chair I'll eventually get. Because I'm an introvert, plus an oft-exhausted teacher, and I spend a lot of time at home. I need it to be a place where I can live. I need it to be the place I enjoy being. I need it to reflect me.
I'm not allowed to put things on the walls (command strips, nails, or otherwise), but there's a thin plastic wall lining thing going around the upper half of my bedroom, and I'm thinking that if I got one of my photos printed super-big on nice poster paper, I could probably TAPE the top of it to the plastic and weigh the corners down so it hangs on the wall. I've always wanted to use my photos for decoration.

I also found an amazing black dress at UNI QLO and snapped it up.

My makeup was already fabulous, so I decided I'd pose with the new decor.

My apartment is coming together slowly, but it's feeling less like a Leopalace and more like my space every day. Hopefully, by the time I'm moving into my next apartment, I'll know exactly what I want to do, and better yet, I'll have ideas on how.
Plus, I won't mind spending the money needed to make myself happy.