A while ago, I saw this T-shirt in some catalog that said something to the effect of "Please God, let me prove to you that winning the lottery won't make me a bad person." Meaning, I suppose, that having money somehow makes one evil, since it's the root of all evils. Not true. What makes you evil or stupid or greedy or just plain weird about it is suddenly having it when you didn't before. Like stumbling on fame, it does change your life, and some people don't react well to the sudden rush of blood to the head, or infusion of cash to the bank account.
Not that I've won the lotto or anything. Not that my folks have left me this gigantic estate. It's pretty modest, actually; not even enough to be more than a down-payment on a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan. And then I couldn't afford the maintenance and mortgage anyway, so what's the use? But I've got significantly more than I've ever had before, including real property (which, if it were miraculously transported here, probably would make me suddenly wealthy, such are the vagaries of real estate). And I just "discovered" another insurance policy that hasn't paid out yet, on top of the one that did that was three times what I expected. So there have been some quasi-pleasant surprises in the last couple of days. Once I sell the house and car and collectibles, if I invest wisely, I can have a comfortable—if not exactly extravagant—retirement, somewhere not too expensive, i.e., not here.
And in the meanwhile, I've got . . . cashflow. Whoa, as Keanu would say. And it's making me weird. Back in the day before the existence of my savings account, I didn't much think about spending money on what I wanted. I couldn't afford much, and I couldn't afford big purchases, but I pretty much got what I wanted anyway, because I didn't want much. Sadly, wants seem to outpace income, no matter what, which is just stupid. Now I'm torn between splurging a little after living so close to the bone all these years, and greedily socking it all away like bloody Gollum and his freaking Precious. Ugh. How hideous!
But I feel weird just buying a ticket to Chicago to see Paul, and ordering another bookcase, and planning another trip abroad (the first in 20 years), and carefully picking out a new cabinet for all the china and stuff Mom's left me and knowing that's not really going to make much of a dent in the money. The real danger, I've discovered, is not the big things, but frittering it away. But when you suddenly don't have to worry about every penny, it's a heady feeling to just decide, yeah, I should really buy that software now that I can afford it, and just order the stuff up without worrying about the budget.
And that's the sad part. It's not like I'm buying out Tiffany. Or suddenly getting all my clothes from Saks Fifth Ave. I'm just buying the same old stuff I used to struggle to buy, or put off buying because I couldn't justify the expense and could make do with something half-assed that was half the cost, too. Truth be told, I wouldn't buy the new tansu I'm eying if I didn't have all this damn china. And I'd think twice about the carpet, too, and probably buy a cheaper one I liked second best. But I probably would have coughed up for the new printer stand/cabinet just because the old kitchen cart is so rickety and awkward and is 15 years old and doesn't owe me anything, since it was crap to start with. And I'd buy the bookcases, just because I can't keep stacking them on the floor.
And that's pretty much all I want in the way of "stuff." But I am gleefully looking forward to traveling more, before I get old and crotchety and unable to. When that does finally happen, I'd like to be able to sit in my chair and remember all the places I've been.
One of the things that's making me weird about the influx of cash is that I didn't earn it. I've finally gotten to a point where I am earning a comfortable living now, for the first time in years, and I don't feel bad about spending that. And I suppose I shouldn't feel bad about the insurance, but I do, and a lot of it is wound up in my mother's money issues—how she'd spend it vs. how I'd spend it. Mostly what I don't like though is having to worry about the damn stuff all the time. I'll be glad when the estate is settled and I can get it all into some kind of fund where it can just multiply peacefully like an amoeba until I need it, rather than me having to chase it all over through eight, count 'em, eight accounts.
And all that said, I'd still rather have my folks than their fucking money.
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