Good afternoon everybody!
How are you? It is a Saturday and this morning I was going to get up, drive to Kmart, and pick out a bicycle. Why? because by golly, I want one badly and it would save me money (in the long run). I was paid on Thursday and I checked my bank balance today (Saturday) and realized the whopping $37.00 I had to my name was not enough to purchase diet coke for the month, let alone a bicycle.
It is amazing how knowing how little money I have can suck the joy right out of my day. It shouldn’t mean anything at all–money is pointless. At least it is completely pointless until you don’t have any.
So, because I am taking control of my own happiness, here is a story about a small amount of money which helped someone else:
I was in St. Thomas for work from Tuesday through Friday this week. On Tuesday I went to the beach bar with Herbert (service dog) to relax and enjoy the evening. As per usual, the chat around the bar turned to dogs (thank you Herbert) and this lady and I were talking about dogs when she said, “where you at the other Best Western restaurant a few months ago when a table of two people ran out on their bill and you paid for it because you said you didn’t want it to come out of my pay (which it would have)?” I looked at her and said, “oh yeah, I forgot about that! how are you?” and then she chattered on about how nice I was and how people just weren’t that nice and that she was so touched by my thoughtfulness. For the record, the table that ditched their bill cost me around $5.00. Because of that $5.00 this woman remembered my existence fondly and recognized me after months in a completely different place and me with a new hair color.
*shrugs* I just thought that story was kind of spiffy and I should share to both make myself look way nicer and more awesome than I really am and to remind myself that there are good and happy things to think about that don’t involve my own fear of poverty.
In other news I just asked my father if I could have a bicycle for Christmas. If I were brave in any way I would ask him if I could borrow money to get myself out of this hellish pit of poor. But I’m not brave…hell, I’m not even proud. I am giving serious consideration to becoming a ‘working girl’ until I can make ends meet.