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297/365 – Less Money = Adulthood
© 2012 Timmy Tamisiea. All rights reserved. Honey, Im home form work . . . ie, the wishing well.

297/365 – Less Money = Adulthood

When do boys become men?  Or better yet, when do we pass through the ring of fire into adulthood.  Some people think it’s when we turn 21.  As if drinking constitutes a measure of maturity — that just makes you regress.  You could even argue it’s when you get your drivers license because you are now free to roam the land.  Like a pilgrim.  And the  buy beer.  So, nope.  I think it has more to do with fiscal responsibilities than anything.   See, I’ve never had a lot of money.  I’m kind of a perpetual starving artist/assistant/moron . . . starving moron?  So I’m Kristen Stewart?  Gross.

Those aren’t seductive eyes . . .they’re eyes that want a cheeseburger so bad . . . so bad.

Still, I’ve always managed to get by.  Whether it’s with odd jobs or the occasional drug deal . . . what?  No.  No drug deals.  But, I’ve managed.  Every once in awhile I call on the rents (parents for you unhip) for assistance.   Which is the equivalent to taking my pride, eating it, pooping it out and then serving it as a snack to enemy.

I call it my pride shelf.

Ever since I got married, I feel like my adulthood credit has grown exponentially.  While the cred has grown, the reality is that I still feel like an early twenties idiot trying to find his way through the forrest of adulthood.  Will I make it out to the other side?  At what cost?

Then you add money issues and suddenly you feel incredibly adult . . . but without the resources to prove you are an adult.  When we lived in Chicago, I had enough contacts and resources to make it on my own; pay rent, bills, transportation — all those essentials.  Now, living in LA, with the money issues growing and the unemployment (unpaid internships — same thing) prolonging itself, I feel more like I’m living the life of an adult but through the means of a 22 year-old college drop out.

Not this college drop out.

This college dropout.

Right now, Megan is the bread winner.  Which is fine – great, actually — but there’s a point where you feel like you are not pulling your weight – not contributing to the Tamisiea Better Living Fund.  It’s a nice organization.  Pretty nice people run it.  Kinda a one sided operation at this point.

Megan really has no problem keeping us afloat while I get my career together.  So, the issue is not her — it’s me.  It’s that stereotypical bull shit portrayed in TV and movies that I always hoped I could avoid — that feeling of emasculation that comes with having no money to contribute in a two person household.

Honey, Im home form work . . . ie, the wishing well.

This whole thing started last week when we had to look for a 2nd car.  We need one.  Quite frankly, the ones we found would be affordable if I had some income.  But I don’t.  I’d like to move forward from that.  Be like the Buddhist monk who is able to release all material thought.  And I will . . . soon . . . hopefully . . . MONEY!!!!!!

So, instead of focusing on what money I don’t have, I’m desperately trying to do the adult thing and focus on the money I kind of have.  I’m negotiating with the dealership, pushing funds around, trying to stretch our money as far as I can.   That’s the adult thing to do, right?  STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT AND JUST SAY RIGHT!

What? . . . oh, yeah, right.  Whatever.

So, here’s to adulthood . . . because if finances make the man, then I’m THE MAN.  Can’t wait to reach super adulthood when my student loans pavements kick in.

One Comment

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