That'll be $1.29 and a little piece of your dignity, please.

Every time I hear a new (or old) song that I even remotely enjoy, I suddenly have to have it. I have to own it, to be able to listen to it whenever I want to. Now, I listen to my music, and it is worth it, most of the time, but I have a serious iTunes addiction. This would not even be a problem if I were like most people in this world who just rip their music for free off the internet. Me, though, I pay for every song, and then I pay for that indiscretion both financially and emotionally.

 $1.29, or $.99, if you’re buying a song no one sees much worth for anymore, doesn’t seem like much. That’s the kicker. It seems like so little that you click the button without even thinking, and then because it was so easy (click!) you do it again. Before you know it, you’re $15 poorer than you were 5 minutes ago, or, in all actuality, $15 poorer than you were 2 weeks ago, because on top of it all, iTunes feels the need to delay your transaction for an eternity before they make you pay. Not only do they have all the new shiny music readily available for your every craving and desire for instant gratification, but iTunes also possesses the element of surprise. Whenever my bank account randomly drops a sizable amount, I know that about three eons ago, I must have been buying too much music.

Every time I go on a binge, I tell myself I will never do it again. I have tried fasting from iTunes, I’ve tried switching to the curiously free podcasts, I’ve tried just listening to old music I bought and never paid much attention to, but nothing works. It’s a problem, and I’m slowly losing all respect for myself. Buying music temporarily makes me feel better, and I'm in the same vicious circle as all addicts. I seek comfort in the thing that ultimately causes me a great (or the greatest) deal of discomfort.