LET'S TALK ABOUT T.P.

I have not purchased toilet paper in over seven years.

Before you go thinking I am some freak of nature, let me reassure you: I still go through several rolls a week, just like any young woman. Some weeks, I go through a lot more, because I get too lazy to buy paper towels and instead, substitute toilet paper, leaving a pulpy mess of broken-down loo roll soaked with spilled smoothie on the kitchen counter. I would estimate that I use no fewer than four rolls a week.

Did you know that the cheapest, roughest, most disgusting brand of toilet paper I have ever seen or felt is $1.19 for a 4-pack?

That's at least $61.88 (plus tax!)per year, just for toilet paper. Don't get me wrong. I'm not cheap. I won't hesitate to spend $650 for a pair of shoes or $30 for a tiny piece of sashimi, but $62 a year is a lot of money for something that you flush down the toilet. You are literally flushing money right down the drain. For $62, you could buy yourself a fancy-ish dinner, a J. Crew t-shirt, a manicure and pedicure, 1/10 of a pair of Jimmy Choos, or 62 songs on iTunes.

Like I said, I'm not cheap, but I do know the difference between things that are worth my money and things that aren't.

Which brings me to my solution:

I "borrow" toilet paper from public restrooms. The recent trend of Cadillac-sized handbags helps immensely. I have borrowed toilet paper from every job I have ever had, from my university, from the tanning salon, the yoga studio, even from Whole Foods (those huge rolls are hard to get out, but they last forever!)
And see, it really is "borrowing" and not just taking. In my mind, I say "I'm borrowing this." Then later, I realize that the place I borrowed it from definitely won't want it back. So it is borrowing, I just never feel like being mean enough to return it.

I can't possibly be the only woman who does this. How else can you explain the complete absence of toilet paper in the public restroom stalls?