The Day After The Day After Black Friday

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The day after the day after Black Friday I'm still recovering my holiday spirits. Huddling at home with a bowl of ice cream richly spiked with Baileys, I aim to secure my mental health with some un-glamorous shopping on eBay, the only place where it always happens to be Black Friday.

After spending 6 hours on my feet at the prematurely Christmassy El Corte Inglés, having to be told over and over again that no, they don't give 50% discount on everything they have, even on Black Friday, I'm sort of starting to dig the no human contact nor oxygen exchange way of shopping. An over-fried churro at the end of the race is no consolation prize for the money loser. Or any loser.

I wish the disappointing cafeteria food was the end of it for me, but no, Black Friday was followed by an even Blacker Saturday, where the shopping took an evil turn. By Sunday I was not a human being anymore, but an embodiment of everything the malls around the world stand for: an obsessive consumerist worshiping at the altar of iGoods. And now, two days and 600€ later, here I am, tapping away on my new "toy" about how it's not my fault and, really, I was taken advantage of.

As far as non-holidays with a license to shop go, this one was fun. But next year? I think I'll lock myself up in a dark room with no internet connection, praying the demons away until the shopping madness is over.

Yours,

A.