my apartment. washington.dc

money sucks.

i dunno wether to be thanful or annoyed with my parents. my mother anyways. I grew up piss poor in a small city in the middle of nowhere. Of course, I didnt know it at the time. And even looking back now, we sure lived better than many other families in the same situation. But there we were… living $5000 a year below the poverty line.

So as a result, the idea of conserving money was long ago drilled into me. not so much conserving money, but being responsible I guess. It did me good when I was in school, scrapping by on every last penny i had.

It has gotten out of hand though. I had learned to save money, and any time I ‘splurged’, I would feel bad. This kept me from doing it too often.

Now though, I live on my own. And obviously, you pay for everything yourself when you live on your own. But I no longer feel bad just when I splurg on something. I feel bad everytime I spend money. So, my day to day living, the requirements of life, are causing me grief. Toilet paper should not be a moral dilemma.

Nothing anyone can help with. Nothing a therapist would be able to deal with. Just an irrational paranoia I have to get over with.

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