There is a wallet sitting by my bedside. I bought it online. I thought that it looked nice. It is made of wood: a curiosity. Every other wallet I’ve owned is made of leather, or an imitation thereof. I was drawn to this wallet because of the novelty, and also because I like things that are made of wood.
My phone case is wood. My wedding ring has a wooden inlay. I’ve searched for wooden frames for my glasses online, but I haven’t committed to buying any. I haven’t seen any that strike my fancy, thus far. However, I fear that if I do, and I purchase them, I’ll be afraid to wear them.
I do not use my wooden wallet. The place from which I bought it assures that they are, in fact, more durable than one would expect. I have this habit, though, with beautiful things, or things that I treasure for other reasons: I do not use them. I obtain them, and then I set them aside, fearing that I will waste them.
This is not a good habit. It happens with clothes that I particularly like, and with food that I know or expect will be particularly delicious, and even with body products. I conserve them too heavily, and I end up not wanting to use or consume them at all.
The wallet sits by my bedside for this reason. It languishes there, gathering dust, perhaps hoping that someday, I will muster the will to use it. Until then, I waste it for fear of wasting it.
Daydreams 