Pinterest problem

Normal people use Pinterest for inspiration. They collect unatainable luxury on their computer screens, curate the materialistic urges they know they’ll never act on.

Me? I buy that shit. All of it.

Seriously, everything I pin is like a personal challenge: how fast can I get this into my online shopping cart and onto my credit card statement? I’ve purchased seven varieties of riding boots, four potential rehearsal dinner dresses, eight kinds of hooks for our entry-way, all thanks to the aggregative powers of Pinterest. I didn’t make inspiration boards – whatever the fuck that means – for our wedding on Pinterest, I made  a long list of crap to buy with helpful illustrations. Pinterest: the most dangerous thing to happen to Japs since Juicy jumpsuits.

So you best believe that when I pinned this Austin Kleon print, it meant that within 5 hours that shit was on its way to my apartment.

So worth it though. Beautiful poetry from the business section of the newspaper? Who would have thought.


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