I got a job.

A real, live, big kid job.

And I’m pretty pumped about it.

But I’m having a problem.

Suddenly with this job, I feel like I’m rich.

Really rich. Beyonce rich.

Everyone warned me this would happen.

My friends, their parents, my parents, teachers.

“When you see what you’re making, it’s going to hopefully be more than you’ve made before. DO NOT LET THIS GO TO YOUR HEAD.”

When Jeff got a big kid job and bought a bazillion dollar truck like it was NBD we fought and fought and fought.

And by we I mean me. And by fought I mean yelled.

And I said, Oh, I will NEVER do that. Silly Jeff.


I think it’s happening. Because this is how I feel:


A new outfit for a concert? SURE! A mousepad with Rue’s face on it? YUP. Instagram photos turned into magnets? I NEED AT LEAST 15!

But the harsh reality is that I owe a bazillion dollars to the government and my father (that’s an exact figure) and I have a really pathetic amount of money to my name right now, and in a few short months I will be paying for super fun things for the first time in my life. Super fun things like car payments and cell phone payments and RENT. OH MY. And also everything else because that’s what happens when you grow up.

The reality is, I actually have no money.

So then the excitement turns to this:


And I get sad.

And then I think


Why am I being sad?!



And then it’s like this again:


See, you guys? It’s a vicious circle.

I’m off to buy a few hundred dollars in iPhone apps.



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