No More Living in a Material World

DAY TWELVE: The Pauper... Realizes She's a Pauper

Anyone who is privy to my lifestyle (and wardrobe) could probably tell you I'm not a material person.  Shopping is something to do out of grudging necessity.  There are items in my closet that predate some of the tweens hashtagging about Miley Cyrus on Twitter.  If there are holes in my clothes, only then will I buy new ones sew patches into them.  It's the rules of frugality, and it's just about the only thing I have that proves my Arab roots.

Ready for the weekend

But the thing about realizing your paychecks will soon cease to directly deposit safely into your checking account is that you start to realize what you spend on everything.  For instance, I have been saving money on transportation by riding my bike everywhere in lieu of buying a CTA pass.  Hurray!  Save 100 bucks a month!  However, the bike chafe on these sweaty Indian Summer days tells me I need to make some new purchases.  A new seat would probably be good.  Perhaps invest in some real biker shorts.  Oh, and let's not forget the egregiously painful and rock hard bike "tape" the former owner of my Schwinn decided to strap on.  Maybe I should do something about that...

And then my mind wanders.  

I don't have much in the way of interview clothes, do I?  Although a smart cardigan and sensible shoes really show off that paralegal flare, perhaps they don't scream, "Hire this cool, young adult!"

My make up is starting to hit that point when I wonder at what point make up expires.  I should be okay as long as it doesn't burn, right?  Ah, the question every young man asks before walking into an STD clinic.

It's a good thing I'm focusing on my career goals and not on getting a boyfriend, because these bras are on their last leg... er, cup.  Because I'm a lady, (and because my parents are now privy to this blog) I'm not going to continue further on this one.

Sure, I can get along through life without all these things.  But the one thing I've never really sacrificed - even when it's Tuesday and I realize I have twenty bucks in my bank account - is going out with friends.  Dining, drinking, throwing our heads back in fits of fiendish laughter.  Those are the things I truly enjoy in life.

Until now, I have to tell myself.  Remind myself.  Because there will be a lot less of those moments in my life for the next few months.  But I have to remember that I'm not losing the fun in my life.  I'm simply replacing it.  Replacing the splurge-fueled dining experiences and late nights of debauchery with something more fulfilling in my life.  I'm replacing fun memories (or in the case of late night debauchery, a lack thereof) with a future.  A future of happiness that I don't have to rely on others to provide.  A future where sitting alone on a Friday night in front of my computer typing away as a storm of ideas floods my mind will be more satisfying than shots of whiskey or a mouthful of sashimi.  And just maybe I'll find a way to have them both.

This kid's already half way there.

Either that or I'll find my way back to the financial district of Chicago as a lady of the night.  But don't worry, Mom and Dad, I'll probably just end up as a hooker in the vein of Liz Lemon.