When it finally arrived—a big box—I unpacked it, assembled it, and washed it. I grabbed an orange, cut it in half, and started juicing. Three minutes later, I realized: I absolutely hate this process. Washing, peeling, slicing, dealing with the leftover pulp—and for what? A single glass of juice. It took four oranges and half an hour of my life.

I gave it an honest try—for a whole week. Every morning, I drank the juice, washed the parts, and cleared away the pulp. And every morning, I asked myself, "Why? I could have just bought juice at the store. Or eaten a whole orange. Or, for that matter, not had any juice at all—it’s not even something I particularly like."

Now, the juicer sits on a shelf—dry, clean, waiting for its moment. Sometimes I look at it and wonder: why? Why did I fall for it? The answer is simple: I didn’t buy a juicer; I bought an image—the image of an organized, healthy, energetic person. In reality, I’m just an ordinary woman who likes to sleep in and hates washing dishes.

I don’t regret it, though. It was a useful lesson. Now, before I buy anything, I ask myself: "Do you actually need this item—or just the image that comes with it?" And more often than not, my answer is: it’s just a pretty picture. So, I don’t buy it.

Do you have any such purchases—things that just sit there, serving as a reminder that you aren’t perfect?

Yana