Money

Much is said about money, and most of it is about how it's the root of all evil, or how it doesn't make the world go 'round, or how you can't buy the most valuable things in life.  All of that might be true, but by god, I love having it and I wish I had more.

After a month of being so flat broke I could literally not do one single thing outside of my house that wasn't free or buying groceries, I got paid today.  My asceticism, I assured myself, was character-building.  I'd probably end up feeling more satisfied than if I had been going out to eat and buying stuff I don't need, like how you feel better after you decide to read a book even though you really wanted to put on the TV and watch 20 shows about people doing their jobs in Alaska and then fall asleep to an infomercial for Bowflex.

After I got that cash I went directly to the mall and bought some sunglasses.  I watched my old ones fall eight stories to the ground last month after I leaned over my new balcony to see what was down there.  Answer:  a million tiny pieces of my favorite sunglasses.  Then I picked up some headphones, since the shitty ones I've been using finally broke.  After that I stopped over and bought myself a shaurma, which I'm eating right now and it's awesome, it tastes like 110 rubles of mystery meat, and it goes great with the first beer I've had in a month.

I'm so much happier than I have been all month, I'm ashamed of myself.  Nothing could ruin my day today, not even that decomposing cat with its intestines hanging out that I pranced by while I was rocking out to my music all the way home in my sweet new sunglasses.

Kaitlin serves millionaire realness

I know in my brainheart that money isn't important but oh my shit, I love it.  I want to throw 5000 ruble bills up in the air and run through them.  I want to make a dress out of them and run through a field of daisies, but no, not daisies-- money.  A field of money, and as I'm running I'm just snatching it up, yanking it off of the stems and shoving it greedily into my pockets.

Money might not be the most important thing in life, I get it.  Family and friends are.  I want both.  I want to buy them all cars and houses and holidays.  I want to go out to eat all the time with everyone I like, and we'll just stay there for four hours, ordering dessert and a third bottle of wine, because we're too busy laughing at our awesome care-free jokes and making rad toasts to each other's happiness, because why not?  We are on vacation at my winter home in Tahiti, after all. 

I'm glad I haven't been rich all my life, that I wasn't born in a mansion and spoiled miserably all my life with sexy new cars and designer clothes.  Last year I worked myself silly with two jobs, sometimes 60 hours a week, some of that work including physical and emotional stress, to save up to come here to Moscow.  It's important to learn the value of a dollar.  Okay so I know it now, I get it.  I'm ready for my fortune.

Maybe I need to watch It's a Wonderful Life again.  I think I'm losing touch with some basic principles I once held dear.