Gas guzzlage leaves Weaver worried
Sheesh, it's getting so that my new favorite weekend pastime is sitting in the middle of my apartment and trying not to breathe for fear of spending money.
Somewhere along the line, I lost my ability to spend money frivolously. I kind of miss it.
Once upon a time, I had the ability that comes with youth to make an impulse purchase without a single thought as to the consequences.
Lunch at the local hotspot? No problem!
A bobblehead figure of McDonald's Grimace? Of course!
Bright, neon-yellow tennis shoes? Already on my feet, and I'll be wearing them out.
These days, though, it feels like I'm all too aware of where every single dime is going.
It's like one of those horrible lessons about money your parents give you when you're young and reasonably request the entire collection of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures, and they say, "What about that money you collected feeding the neighbors' cat?"
Then you say, "Oh no, I'm going to save that for something important," and they smile at you knowingly.
"What?" you ask as they walk away, leaving you Ninja Turtle-less.
Of course, these days my reaction is less an innocent question and more a shocked and appalled "What?!?!"
What do you mean I'm not immune to gas guzzlage? What do you mean by the high cost of cheese? What do you mean my dream of being the world's next ridiculously wealthy celebrity don't appear to be realistic?
I know I'm not alone in feeling the heat when it comes to finances. I know a lot of people are in either the same boat or a worse one. I know I'm very lucky to be where I'm at and have what I do. I know a lot of the worries I have are very petty in comparison to those people with real woes.
Sometimes it's just hard to remember those things when I'm driving along and it suddenly occurs to me I want a McMuffin. Or that I already had tacos and so I probably shouldn't have both in the same day, week or whatever if I want to have pizza this weekend.
One of the myths about adulthood I'm most shattered about dispelling is the image of a bottomless bank account, right up there with the steadily uneasy revelation that most adults are still making life up as they go along, and nobody has all the answers.
Lately, when I get all swept up in my tendency to be a worrywart, I've been finding comfort from an e-mail my mom forwarded to me, with a sentiment attributed to Ralph Marston:
"Before you rush away from this moment, take a look around and see its beauty. Instead of worrying about what's next, see the immense value that's already yours in what's now. Savor the time you're in and the place where you are. Appreciate all that you have instead of being obsessed with how to get more.
"You are already wealthy beyond all measure. Open your eyes to now, open your heart to purpose, and experience in rich detail the miracle that is your life.
"There's nothing to be gained by racing furiously away from this moment in search of more. Instead, put your energy into accepting all that is and you'll find it is more than enough.
"Put your focus, care, love, attention, interest, curiosity, purpose and passion into where you are right now. This is your time and place to live, to achieve, to feel, to learn and to experience.
"Everything you are, you are right now. Be here and live the richness."
If you're experiencing similar worries, or whatever it is in your life you're facing, I hope these words can provide you your own brief moment of peace like they have for me.
We'll be OK. I hope. We'll be OK.