Because, really, I would rock at being an eccentric millionaire. I would do all kinds of crazy things, like fund a flight to Mars for a group of penguins, and market a line of Melissa dolls, which would be like Barbie dolls without the ridiculous measurements, but with the set of unrealistic career expectations (make money as a writer! ha.) Whirlwind trip around the world to buy a jar of Nutella in every conceivable country? I'll get my spoon.
I think everyone probably has that mental list of things they'd do with a lot of money. Whenever the jackpots for the lottery get really big, that's all anyone talks about. It's lots of "I'd buy a house for every member of my family," and "I'd pay off all my debts." I like to keep my expectations just a bit higher.
Which is my long-winded way of saying, I've been thinking a lot about money lately. I feel like I'm on the verge of being a lot more financially solvent, but... just not right now. Soon. I can see the light at the end of proverbial tunnel. It's weak, but it's there.
Since I doubt I'll find myself rolling around in piles of money anytime soon, I've been thinking practically. Little house. Little dog. One job, not two.
I've gotten some big debts down to an amount where I can see that I'll be free of them within a year. My school debt will hang around my neck like a loadstone until I'm chasing old men around my nursing home on my motorized scooter, but that's what I get for having the presumption to be a sorta-smart girl in a country where higher education is a business, not a right. I can live with that. The other stuff, not so much.
However, I contend, all this practical thinking is totally at war with my character, which insists that I was meant for bigger, infinitely sillier things. Like building the world's most extravagant tree house, complete with waterslides and a perpetual supply of puppies to play with when the mood strikes.
No comments:
Post a Comment