I’ve had a paying job since the age of 8… Not that I was good at every job I had. At 8, I had a full-time babysitting job during the summer… 9 hours a day for 3 kids ages 1, 5, and 7… I was 8… and I was pretty much the most horrendous babysitter on the face of the planet. I’d get caught up playing games with the 5 and 7 year olds and forget all about the baby. I can’t even count how many times someone rang the doorbell with the lil’ dude in tow, saying he’d been playing out in the middle of the busy street by himself. I was always very mature for my age and I looked older too, thus the abundance of babysitting jobs… and when you’re 8/9 paying you 50 cents an hour is like a gold rush. I hated looking mature. I was at the library one time checking out books at the age of 12, and the lady asked me what I was majoring in in college… um… I’m about to go to recess and then daycare afterwards.
I had a paper route for years. I picked apples in an apple orchard (scratch that, I got to pick the ones up off the ground since I was 12 and 12-year-olds get the bad end of the job deal). I worked at Western Watts getting yelled at by people with wedgies who were not in the mood to do a survey. I worked 2 jobs my first few years of college… K-Mart in the day and the movie theaters at night and weekends. I worked for YEARS at Convergys getting yelled at by unsatisfied cellphone customers.
So, I’ve been making money since the age of 8… and I still have nothing to show for it. No house of my own… no fancy dancy car less than 14 years old, no beautiful new furniture, no college degree (but 8 billion credits that add up to not enough) nothing, except a deeply instilled hard work bone. It’s expensive to be fat. Between the medications, diet schemes, food enough for a football team, doctor visits, procedures, etc., etc., etc., there’s not much left over at the end of the day. In the past, I’ve gauged my happiness on the fact that I was poor. I’m 32 years old and I pay minimal rent in my parent’s basement fer crying outloud! How humiliating is that!? .
My attitude is changing, slowly but surely. Money don’t buy happiness… happiness comes from within. If I determine that I’m going to be a happy person, by golly, I will be a happy person… despite the fact that I drive around a 1997 Buick and can’t afford a house, I’ve got so much that money can’t buy. Take a minute, shut your yapper, look around you, and see all the treasures you do have, Whitney. There’s not enough money in the world to replace those things.
Question of the Day: What was your first job? How old were you?
Price Tag by Jessie J featuring B.o.B.
It’s not about the money, money, money
We don’t need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the price tag
Ain’t about the (uh) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching
Ain’t about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling
Wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the price tag.
Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can’t buy us happiness
Can we all slow down and enjoy right now
Guarantee we’ll be feeling alright