On Money 

I don't like money. It smells funny and rubs the funny smell off onto my hands. How did that funny smell get there?...did someone roll around naked on my dollar? was it in some strippers g-string? When you think about it, most money has spent the better part of its life nestled under someone's sweaty ass or in some lady's purse rubbing up against her used, crusty tissue.


I need it. And it isn't just a means of exchange.

Money (and the amount of money I "earn") is inexplicably tied to my self-worth and esteem. Don't get me wrong, it's silly and I wish it wasn't the case. I want money even if I have no plans to spend it. I want money even if I'm perfectly happy with myself and my surroundings. I want money because the guy next to me has it...and I'm at least as good as he is.

"Money can't buy you happiness..."

Such nonsense.

For me, having money is having reassurance that I've made good decisions in my life. And at this juncture, I desperately need supporting evidence to boost my confidence in the choices I've made.


Put simply, I just don't know what I want to do or who I want to be. Money helps justify even the silliest decisions. It makes me feel like I have the slightest bit of control over the things that influence my life. And no, I don't think much about buying things.

I always shit my pants when someone poses the question, "where do you want to be in 5 years?"

I dunno. Ahead? A company woman? Someone to be revered and feared who sleeps on a mattress stuffed with two dollar bills (I have a flair for the eccentric)?

What's the real answer?

In five years I want to be healthy, and in love, and have the support of my family and friends. I want to be able to afford cable TV and clothes without holes. I want to do good, and I want to feel good about it. I want to learn new things constantly and really be challenged. I want to laugh more than I cry and not feel guilty about eating piles of mashed potatoes.

I feel uncomfortable planning the details of my life. And having money (not spending it, just having it)...no matter how silly or immature it may be, makes me feel like I have choices.

Isn't that creepy?

Ugggghhh, I feel dirty. ...as dirty as a dollar bill.


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