My scholarship refund came in yesterday. That, combined with 50 bucks the Daily Nebraskan owed me, amounted to a $1,300 windfall. Not a bad day's non-work for somebody previously carrying his only $10 around with him in his 10-year-old wallet.
I'm not kidding about the wallet. I got it in December 1995 from mother and father. It had a No Fear logo on it. You can't read that anymore.
In any case, I'm relieved. As I told people about it, I felt like I ought to be overjoyed; when you suddenly go from literally scraping by on water and store brand mac-and-cheese to a certain level of comfort, you're supposed to go on an out-of-your-gourd spending spree, or so my socialization tells me. But really, it's just a huge relief. Not to trump up some phony excuse to stay home, when really you just can't afford to spend a buck and a half on coffee. Not to devote all your conscious energy to getting by, spilling over into rule of your creative half, so that all your blog posts are about poverty (this is the last one, I promise ;) ).
I still haven't bought a desk; my office supplies are still in shoeboxes. But I have gotten coffee twice in three days. I didn't need to, but
All the same, the hunk of my brain commanding misguided nostalgia will miss the romantic parts of absolute destitution. I've been reading a lot about environmental sociology and global sustainability this week, fun stuff like that, and feeling good about the little things I've been doing. Then, today, money in hand, was the first time since I moved in that I forgot to turn off the heater when I left my apartment. Yet again, comfort breeds indiffrence.
Oh, and Chris, if you're reading, I wanted to know about this Derrida fellow you keep tossing about, so I rented a documentary about him, and watched half of it. It isn't especially good, but I'll finish.