Sometimes I want to shout out stupid, inappropriate things at work like, “Sorry I’m the happiest person here!” and giggle uncontrollably like I’ve been fired and I don’t have to come back and see these people ever again (except for my boss, who my parents will ask to Christmas again). (Which is totally fine. Apparently he knew I was a moron and hired me anyway.)
As I was driving my hour long commute home yesterday, I spied a Bellaesque old, red Chevy on a trailer attached to the back of a U-Haul from Missouri and I thought to myself, “Man, what I wouldn’t do for that truck.” But I have a small SUV, purchased new with a warranty because my mother is insistent that I have a car with a warranty because goodness forbid I get an old, cool car and learn how to fix it. If I did that, I wouldn’t have to work like a slave to pay off a loan, and then I might be able to live (corporately jobless) at the farm and learn how to drive a secondary vehicle – a tractor. But, as it is, my dad fears I’ll fall off the tractor and kill myself in its sharp, sharp blades. Or, that I’ll drive too close to the hill and roll down it.
Admittedly, a valid concern.
I’ve had a sneaking suspicion for a long time that my friends and family think I’m very materially minded. The first time this jarring realization entered my mind was that one time a male friend of mine told his doctor friend that I was too high maintenance for him. I was royally offended. It happened again many years later when I tried to sit in on a high school girl’s Bible class (when no longer in high school, but honestly, I never went to high school, so does it matter?) and I was told I was too pretty to be there. Really? Is that what you’re going to stick with when God asks you on Judgment Day why you wouldn’t let me hang out with all the cool girls?! And most recently it’s come in the form of my family telling me that if I do something, take a certain action, I won’t be rolling in dough. I won’t make much money. I’ll be destitute and sleeping under an overpass.
Honestly, I’ve seen under the overpass on 35 and it looks pretty homey.
What they don’t realize is that I would wear the same t-shirt and jeans every single day (as witnessed every weekend at the farm) and drive an old $2k Mustang with no a/c as long as it had a tape deck. I know I would look like a drowned rat after driving 20 minutes to the nearest Brookshires, but that wouldn’t stop the nice, country cart-pushers (who still take your groceries to your car for you!) from saying hi to me!
And after 7 (count them, s-e-v-e-n) years of working like a dog in industries I don’t care one bit about, pushing papers for people whose sole purpose in life is making sure everybody gets the money they think they deserve, simply because someone has tried to impress upon me that this is the way life is and sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do and if you don’t have a job you like it’s because you didn’t go to school and sell your soul to school loan sharks and being miserable at 25 is PART OF LIFE.
I don’t buy it.
Money is my enemy.
Phew, wow, that felt good.
Gratuitous photo to make this post more light hearted: I will be seeing this guy photo creeper on Friday and I could not be more excited.