BE MY OBSESSION

CHAPTER 4

•SHELBY•

People eagerly anticipate the arrival of the weekend, cherishing those two precious days as their only opportunity to unwind and indulge in personal pursuits. Take my friend Becky, for instance; she, like most people I know, eagerly awaits the weekend, relishing the prospect of engaging in various plans and activities.

Whether individuals have the luxury of a work-free day or a well-deserved vacation, the excitement that accompanies these breaks is immeasurable.

However, I find myself viewing this enthusiasm with a hint of bewilderment. Not because I don't have the luxury of time off—quite the contrary, as the CEO, I possess the privilege to take a day off whenever I please—but rather due to my personal dedication to my work. Consequently, I find it both vexing and futile to witness the fervor surrounding these two days.

If there is anything that I'd choose to be excited about, it would unquestionably be immersing myself in my work throughout the entire week. I would gladly forgo a special vacation in the Bahamas in favor of abstaining from a break from work. This preference isn't merely a matter of habit; it is something my close circle of friends knows well if they dare to inquire. It particularly applies to those intrusive journalists and reporters who persistently pester my family.

Lately, amidst the turmoil at home and in the workplace, I've noticed a change—particularly within myself. The once exhilarating rush of being at work and the vibrant energy associated with embarking on new projects has waned. Instead, I feel as if I'm solely fulfilling my professional duties out of obligation, devoid of any genuine passion.

One thing I vehemently despise is engaging in activities without my wholehearted commitment. Unfortunately, this is precisely the sentiment I've been experiencing in recent days, and it has begun to take its toll on me. So, early Saturday morning, I dressed myself and left the house, driving into town.

My decision to visit some of my favorite stores was motivated by a desire to spend my valuable time indulging in a therapeutic shopping experience. Although I didn't necessarily require anything new, shopping provides me solace when my mind cannot fully focus on work, effectively helping me ward off stress.

Upon entering the renowned store, I was warmly greeted by two clerks positioned at the entrance. I reciprocated their welcome with a small smile and nod before proceeding further inside.

I paused at the clothing section, leisurely perusing the assortment of women's garments on sale. My eyes skimmed over the various choices, hoping to discover something to my liking.

"Hello, may I assist you with anything?" a female attendant with auburn hair suddenly inquired.

I briefly glanced at her uniform—a pair of black shorts paired with a light pink t-shirt adorned with her name tag on the left pocket. Then, I redirected my attention to the clothes displayed before me and crossed my arms.

"Are you capable of carrying items?" I asked, deliberately speaking slowly. She wore a puzzled expression.

"I'm sorry?"

I turned around to face her directly.

"Can. You. Carry. Things?" I enunciated each word deliberately. She quickly nodded in response.

"Uh, yes, I can do that." I nodded and pointed to the neatly arranged clothes on the rack.

"Excellent. I would like you to gather all of these for me. I intend to purchase the entire selection."

Her eyes widened in astonishment.

"A-All of them?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" She promptly adorned a wide smile.

"No, not at all."

She immediately began removing the clothes from the rack, while I proceeded towards the shoe section.

I leisurely admired the assortment of colorful high heels, stilettos, and stylish boots on display. Each showcased their accompanying accessories and belonged to renowned brands—no doubt commanding prices in the thousands of dollars.

Another friendly attendant approached me, offering a warm smile. I turned to face her.

"I'd like to purchase all of the shoes displayed from here," I pointed to the middle of the section, "to there," indicating the end of the row. "However, they must all be in size 7."

The sales attendant barely had time to react before my expression prompted her to retrieve the shoes from the storeroom, beginning the task of packing them.

With the two attendants diligently following my lead—one with clothes in her arms, the other carrying numerous shoeboxes—we proceeded to the accessory section. There, I selected a few additional items, entrusting another attendant to retrieve them for me—Louis Vuitton bags, Gucci sunglasses, hair accessories, jewelry, and, finally, a complete set of makeup and skincare products from the makeup section.

"That will be $30,520," the cashier stated, beaming widely.

I lazily reached into my handbag, extracted my black credit card, and handed it to her.

Following my therapeutic shopping session, the four attendants kindly helped carry all of my shopping bags to the parking lot, meticulously arranging them inside the trunk, before returning to their duties.

I hopped into my car, closed the door behind me, and let out a deep breath, leaning my head back against the seat. As I closed my eyes, I relished the opportunity to relax and clear my mind.

Undoubtedly, shopping had alleviated some of the stress accumulated during the demanding workweek. Now, I finally possessed the energy and enthusiasm necessary to return to the office and immerse myself in meaningful tasks.

Engaging in shopping for items I enjoy does not imply that I lack them; I already possess everything I desire. Instead, the process of spending my money and time selecting random items I fancy allows me to relish a unique kind of excitement.

However, it's crucial to note that these acquisitions won't accompany me back to my parents' house. I purchased one of my condos specifically to store these belongings. Perhaps there will come a time when I reside there and utilize some of these items, but such a possibility cannot be guaranteed.

Thus, I drove to the street where my private condo is located. A security guard from the building kindly carried all of my shopping bags to my upstairs condo. Upon arrival, the maid awaited me and graciously took charge of organizing the items in the designated room.

The maid's responsibilities include visiting the condo three times a week to ensure its cleanliness. Fortunately, today happened to be one of those days, and I was grateful for her presence to arrange the newly acquired items inside the room.

I proceeded to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, and strolled toward the vast floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, relishing the breathtaking city view below.

Satisfied with my day's accomplishments and content that they had reignited my work motivation, I decided to indulge in a well-deserved moment of relaxation, enjoying my glass of wine.