roadside girl scout cookies, money sweats + poolside tarot readings.
a little bit of everyday. a little bit of woo.
The Everyday
The whole internet knows how much money I have saved for retirement.
I’m not sure when I first started reading Refinery29’s Money Diaries, but it was only a matter of time before my nosy ass stumbled across this financially transparent little corner of the Internet. Each week, an email hits my inbox that makes my inner gossip cackle with delight: I get to peek inside the wallets of complete strangers and see how they choose to spend their hard-earned cash…plus all the juicy deets that go along with it.
About four days after I moved to STX, I thought, “hey! I should write a Money Diary!”
After all, money was definitely on my brain: I had no job, no prospects of one, and no idea how I was going to make island life work on a budget of exactly $01.
But in spite of some very real Money Sweats (TM), my first week was magical. I wanted my diary to strike a balance between the financial uncertainty I felt and the joy I experienced at finally, finally making the sort of change I had always dreamed about.
Anyone who’s published anything publicly2 on the Internet knows that the comments are like the Molasses Swamp in old school Candy Land: if you hang out there too long, you’ll get stuck and be forced to listen to the swamp monster Gloppy tell you all the ways you’re a terrible human being for existing and deciding to write about it.
Thankfully, the comments were pretty supportive overall, but one got me thinking:
Relatability is relevant, but I really believe in the sort of magic we make ourselves.
I know I am privileged to be able to uproot myself like this, but I didn’t sit around and wait for it to happen. And making a big ole change like mine is freakin’ hard. So I’m proud of myself for doing it…even if every single person on the Internet doesn’t agree with me.3
The universe gifted Girl Scout cookies to me!
This is a judgement-free zone, right? Pinky promise?
Hilly and I like to go on evening walks as much as possible to catch the sunset (the water is maybe a 7-minute stroll from our apartment), and I’m always on the lookout for random treasures along the side of the road. It’s a habit that has served me well—in St. Louis, I once found a slightly torn but still valid $100 bill just chillin’ on the sidewalk near where I lived.
Unfortunately, littering is a huge problem in St. Croix.4 I’ve seen sun-bleached boxes of Cheez-Its, busted beer bottles and an entire, rusted-out lawnmower abandoned next to the road. So I wasn’t too shocked when I stumbled across a box of Girl Scout cookies. They caught my eye because they were my favorite: Caramel Delites.
I nudged the box with my toe as I passed by, and I realized it was full. And still sealed. I looked at Hilly. He looked at me. “Should we?” I asked, tentatively. Who had I become? Was I seriously considering taking these Girl Scout cookies home and…eating them?!
Well, dear reader, I did it. I opened the box. The interior bag was still sealed. The cookies were intact. I knew what I had to do.
I ate the cookies. And they were very good. Thanks, universe.
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