The Woeful Maroon Sweater

Oh, woe is me.  It is eleven o'clock on a Sunday night, and I am holed up in my bedroom sitting mournfully in front of my computer having myself a nice little pity party.  Don't worry, I'll explain.

I was doing a little back to school clothes shopping on a website with a big sale lasting until Tuesday.  I picked out two pairs of jeans that were not high waisted, more ripped than Taylor Lautner on steroids (I hate Twilight but you've got to admit it's true) or so tight that knee bending becomes a long forgotten luxury.  I also found a lovely grey striped sweater on sale. So far, so good.  But here is where tragedy strikes.  I found yet another shirt-that-is-not-a-tshirt (I've been instructed to buy some of those by more than a few of my friends... thanks guys...) that I quite liked.  They had my size and it wasn't even all that expensive.  Problem: It comes in three colors.  I like two of them.  So now I can't decide!  And to make it all the more embarrassing for me,  the colors I'm trying to decide between are actually...dark grey and light grey.  I have got to win some kind of World's Most Superficial Teenager award right now.

You want to know something?  I think that they should make a level of hell for people addicted to online shopping.  They can just sit you in front of a computer with nothing but an eternity and a canceled credit card.  You can shop all you want, but no matter what, you will never ever actually buy anything.  Now that would qualify as torture to a lot of people.

Oh my goodness. I really can't believe this. I can't believe that I went looking around some more on that damned website after all this... but also that I just found a very awesome maroon sweater.  It would look really nice with jeans and my new unicorn tshirt. In fact, it would look more than nice.  It would look supermegafoxyawesome nice with them.  Its also forty dollars.  And when it comes to clothes, I'm almost  as cheap as George Costanza from Seinfeld.  You know, this guy:

Does he look like he would ever spend more than twenty five bucks on any article of clothing? Forget about it.  He once asked for a death certificate at a funeral for his girlfriends dead aunt so he could get a discount on the flight home.  (I guess airports did that in the 90s?) 

But back to the sweater... the title of the sweater is literally "The Perfect Cardigan." Excuse me while I go throw myself off a cliff, after which thousands of hungry rainbow trout swimming in the channel below will nibble on my remains as I am skewered by a pointy rock, the water stained dark maroon with blood that, coincidentally, happens to be the very same color as the cardigan that I so badly want to buy in the first place.  

....Not to be dramatic or anything.  Oh screw it. I'm buying the cardigan.