I finally got my first paycheck the other day. It was only for one day of work, but it was $94. I was surprised it was so much. I couldn't help but think how much harder I'd work if there was some fatcat in a suit at the end of the day who peeled off $94 in greasy bills and handed them to me.
What can I say? I'm a petty, petty man. I calculated that I make 19.5 cents every minute, or about a cent every three seconds. Go get a drink of water? That's 39 cents right there. Blow your nose? 2 more cents in the piggy bank. Calculating how much money I've made so far that day is about the only thing that gets me through the workday.
I try to imagine all the books I could buy with the money, but in reality, it's all going to pay off my outrageous credit card debt. I'm actually excited to send off my first big paycheck to the credit card company. I promised a year ago that I would pay for that Panera sandwich, and I'm finally going to make good on it.
The other positive thing about working a miserable job is that it has taught me the value of money. My spending has gone way down; not just because I have no free time, but also because I can't bear to think of all the hours I'd have to put in to pay for something I don't really need. Paper plates? Eh, I'll just do more dishes. We have a well, so the water is free.
All in all, having a job is the best thing for me, though it makes me miserable. Like an out-of-control teen on Maury, I need structure. Otherwise I stay up all night, watching TV and reading blogs, and then sleep through the day. Then I feel like I haven't accomplished anything and I end up feeling miserable anyway.
Which is better? Miserable or miserable with $94?
My credit card company says it's the latter.