Why don’t you go to an antique shop and purchase tons of old maps? They’re rarely expensive, and they look so charming. Take your new collection and use them to wallpaper your library. You do have a home library, don’t you? It’ll be so worldly and cultural to read whilst surrounded by an outdated map of Paraguay or the Amalfi Coast. Maybe line your staircase with maps? It’ll be an adventure going up and down each day.
Why don’t you go through your house and find anything of value and sell it on the Internet? I have found a Wii that I never used. It’s only worth $30 when I sell it, but that frees up some space in my house and buys a couple books to stock my Egyptological library, so why not? Get over your feelings of loss, reader, and sell everything. Throw away the rest. Live elegantly with things you love, not junk weighing you down.
Why don’t you write a kindly letter to the lovely people in Italy at the Bialetti factory and ask them to release a golden Moka pot? I love my stainless steel one, but the gold would look so much nicer in my kitchen with the Tiffany blue paint and glossy black accents. If not, then I need a professional espresso machine that is plated in gold to match my iPhone. It’d be nice if it had an app that was loaded on my gold iPhone, so I could turn the machine on from bed. Or from my Apple Watch! (It’s gold, too.) The world could be more wondrous.
Why don’t you find one of the few remaining Glamour Shots locations (or a similar photo studio) and have an incredibly gaudy headshot taken? Wear driving gloves, please. Touch your cheek ever-so-delicately, and smile as if your life was depending on it. Have this magnificent portrait printed on a postcard and then use this to send notes and thank yous and jokes to your friends, families, coworkers, or complete strangers. Postcard stamps only cost thirty-five cents.
Why don’t you write Harry Styles a kind, yet firm, letter asking to stop actively trying to murder me? A beautiful love letter of a song was leaked from the upcoming One Direction album, and it destroyed me emotionally. Don’t listen to “If I Could a Fly” if you don’t want to cry for fifteen years. I thought I had recovered after two days of wiping away tears and clutching my heart, but then Harry tweeted the title of the song. That was all. I died. I’m a typing ghost. #larryisreal STOP HIM, readers.