Cheap Thrills

What do you do when you need to do something but don’t want to spend any money?

Over the weekend, we got an awful lot of wet, fluffy, beautiful snow that turned into puddles of slush the next day. The day it snowed, instead of staying inside my home and watching it from my window with a beer, I walked around outside because I had plans and didn’t want to break them. The day after, the sun was bright, the snow was melting and after I woke up and went grocery shopping, I was left with the rest of the day ahead of me.

A sunny day, regardless of the temperature, makes me feel like I should be outside doing something. In the summer, my options are a little more open: there are parks that I can sit in with a book, walks to take, things to do that don’t cost money. In the winter, cabin fever is usually broken by a trudge to the nearest place I can maybe consider buying something. The grocery store works as a warm-up to a larger outing, a nice way of testing the waters and making sure that I brought the right hat. It’s a brief jaunty, planned and quickly executed, so much so that if you asked me three hours later if I’d left the house yet, I would frown and say, “Hmm. No?”

The compulsion to pack your weekend full of things is just as real as the move to do the opposite. One full day for me usually means a full day spent in the company of others, negotiating the tricky pact of adulthood that is doing things that aren’t necessarily exactly what you want to do at that moment. The second day — spent alone, if I’m lucky — begs to be filled with activities, but activities that I very specifically do for me.

Usually this means walking around my neighborhood, ducking into stores and smelling candles until I feel like I’ve done enough. Sometimes I buy something, but usually the walking is in part to pay penance for the money that I might have spent the day before. The “Stuff!” column is full; I don’t need anything else, but touching the things is nice, too.

In Praise of Walking As (Affordable) Self-Care

A museum also works, especially if I feel ambitious enough to drag myself to the Met, pay a few dollars and wander around for a while. That kind of ambition usually rears its head in the summer if at all, but sometimes just thinking about that — getting on the train, reading a book, walking up the stairs of the Met — is enough.

This urgent need to do something in winter is made worse by the sun’s early departure. It’s important to be outside when the sun is out! Starting the activity at 3 p.m. is a fool’s errand because by the time you leave the store or exit the coffee shop, it is pitch black and unwelcoming outside. Best to follow through with these impulses early, if at all.

Is it so wrong to indulge one’s inner sloth and just stay at home for a day doing nothing? If not, what do you do? Does everyone just window shop and get a cappuccino and a croissant, then come home? What do you do when you want to do something but don’t want to spend a lot of money?

Support The Billfold

The Billfold continues to exist thanks to support from our readers. Help us continue to do our work by making a monthly pledge on Patreon or a one-time-only contribution through PayPal.