Pathetic Woman Buying Flowers For Herself "There goes another pathetic woman buying flowers for herself," mocked our dear colleague, Eric B., spinning the chair around in his cubicle. We women had long declared Eric as irreformable in terms of workplace etiquette. Every Friday around 4pm, Augustin the flower guy showed up in the office parking lot with his pick-up truck filled with carnations, roses and gerbera daisies. A genial and ever-smiling guy, he always waved wildly to us through the glass windows. That was our cue to make a beeline towards the front entrance and for Eric to shake his head and pass comments no one really heard or took offence with. Most of us, including me, were single. Indulging ourselves by spending five dollars on flowers started off the weekend on a happy note. At some point in time, for some reason I cannot identify now, I stopped buying flowers for myself. It became easier to buy them for others. The few times I did buy them for myself, I fretted over each bloom that broke off from its stem way before the others. Each petal that fell from the flower launched me into fresh despair no less than that of the girl in O. Henry's "The Last Leaf." I cannot deny the joy fresh flowers bring into my life for the days they last. Spending on intangibles and things or events that we "experience" is not something I hesitate to do. But, there is something about fresh flowers -- they will for sure wilt away -- that discourages me from buying them. It would cost only seven or eight dollars twice a month to buy them, but I always talk myself out of it when at the grocery store or Costco. Even if the checkout line is slow and I am standing next to the flower aisle for long, I resist the temptation. This really has to change. I deserve better. The flowers bring me joy. A happier me means a happier household. My daughter and son will observe mom investing time and money on her own happiness and thus teach them a lesson in the importance of self-care. It will make my stride more confident as I push my cart out of the grocery store. I won’t look covetingly at the flowers in another woman's cart, thinking to myself, "There goes a confident woman who buys flowers for herself." Instead, we will acknowledge our shared prudence with a quick smile as we walk back to our cars. .