Divinity in a size 7

I was sitting in mass at San Lorenzo church this morning asking God why he is testing me with this money stuff. A thought spontaneously popped into my mind. I should stop worrying about money. I’m spending it, but I feel so guilty about it. It’s similar to devouring a chocolate covered, custard filled doughnut. Even while I’m licking the sugary goodness off my chin, I am feeling irresponsible, weak willed, and generally subpar. Change “sugary goodness” to “my new leather boots” and it’s the same with the money. I chose to come here and I knew I would be spending this money so why am so worried about it all the time? Today, while the priest prattled on about something in Italian, God told me to spend and enjoy it. Not just in Italy, but in my life. There are a couple of businesses that I have been thinking about starting when I return, but I have been scared to invest my meager divorce settlement in my future. Those businesses are back on the list of possible careers for my post-Europe life. I hope that really was God talking to me and not the little devil on my shoulder telling me that it would be a sin not to buy an Italian leather purse while I’m here.