Ashes to Ashes
Maybe it’s because Mardi Gras came so late this year that it’s practically spring cleaning time. Or maybe it’s because I never did make a real New Year’s resolution. But the point is, I’m feeling the urge to . . . deprive myself?
Wait, did I just write that? Can I take it back?
Even for us non-Catholics, it’s hard not to get into the spirit of the Lenten season. After let’s see, from Halloween through Thanksgiving, then Christmas and New Year’s and Valentine’s Day, not to mention a long winter — basically every excuse you need to overindulge and be a lump on a log — you can kind of use a purge.
And yet it doesn’t seem natural that you lose some and you don’t get to win any in return. The point of my spring cleanings, anyway, has always been to make room for more stuff. It’s as if the world would be off kilter, the cosmic balance would be lost. There would be a void in the universe that is my closet!
I suppose you could say that saving up all your shopping energy for a whole six weeks makes the post-Lent spree all the more enjoyable, but you know what? I never thought Easter supper was all that. (Besides, I think I really, really need these YSL slingbacks and I need them now.) I say, Pass the ham! And pass my Amex!
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