My Transition into the Money-Grubbing Profession

My relationship with money has always been casual. If I needed some, my parents gave it to me. If I wanted for something, they bought it for me. Or else I'd buy it for myself with money they put into my account. Sure, I made a little bit of pocket money here and there as a babysitter or tutor, but money was a steady, dependable stream. 

Naturally, I had some pretty lofty notions regarding the stuff. I thought of it as a luxury- necessary. I didn't believe I needed money. I thought it great fun to be an impoverished writer, or a suffering artist. Anything in the name of art. Is that not what lent even more poignancy to the great masters?

But these days I've grown a little older. It feels strange to ask my parents for funds and I've come to associate money with worth. Trying to live on what little I made was...restricting. I can eat away an entire day's earnings in a single meal. 

Perhaps this realization comes with the fact that as I've grown, the things I want most are things money can't buy me. I've decided that what I want is to see the Isle of Skye. The Hagia Sophia. Machu Pichu. Reykjavik. Buenos Aires. Verona. 

What is that bottle of laser red nail polish to me? It's not my color anyways.

What need have I for new Chuck Taylors? My old ones are still perfectly functional.

What would I do with a new desk? I'd do all my homework on the ground regardless.

But what would I do with a really good book? I'd read it until all the pages are dog eared and the spine crumbles. I'd carry spill coffee on it and drop it into puddles. I'd leave it in other people's houses and turn around on the freeway to retrieve it. 

To me, the best things in life are not things. They're stories. If you travel, they're stories you've created. If you read, they're stories from other people who have traveled. If you listen to music, partake anyway in the arts, you absorb the stories of others. I think happiness for me will be found in making, sharing, and listening to stories. 

Unfortunately, all those things cost money. Lots of it.

Traipsing through Sicilian vineyards? Priceless. The plane ticket to Italy? Not priceless.

My point I guess it that money is important. Not because people need nice things, or big houses, or sleek cars. Not because wearing the latest Chanel collection will make you feel fulfilled. Not because Siri will sort your life out for you.

Because money is best spent on experiences, memories. Concerts, train tickets, taxi rides, museum galleries.

Now that I know how my money is best spent, I see that I am so dreadfully poor. My parents have money- that is unquestionable. But after gas and food, I have all of...like, five dollars. Five dollars I'm sure as hell not spending at the mall.