As my previous post in this series alluded, I haven’t always had such stellar work & savings habits. Looking back through my financial history, I can easily pinpoint the exact date when my situation began to turn from sunshine & roses to thunderstorms and ragweed (or, more appropriately, from loads of cash flow and savings to an eventual mountain of debt and anxiety): August 13, 1999.
You see, this was no ordinary Friday afternoon–despite being able to cash a sizable paycheck as I’d done so many Fridays before. While I had diligently worked 70+ hours each week at the local amusement park that summer before college to save as much money as humanly possible (and somehow managed to still enjoy my summer), I had been dreading this day–the day when the check to pay off the balance for my first year of college tuition had to be postmarked by. So instead of depositing my entire paycheck into my savings account as I had done for so many previous weeks, I needed to take out the cash, plus the [entire] balance of my account. I didn’t have a checkbook, so I needed my mother to write the check to my University for me (these were the days before online bill pay became the norm).
I drove home with an envelope stuffed with cash, and I promptly counted out said cash on our kitchen table: $5,500 in cold, hard cash. Sitting there, taunting me. Reminding me of my hard work and motivating me for what the next chapter in my life would bring. I watched, horrified yet exhilarated, as my mother wrote the check, stuffed the envelope, placed the stamp, then put the envelope in her purse to be mailed on her way to work the next day along with the pile of money to be deposited. I earned that money all by myself. I took out zero loans for my first year of college (I had some scholarships in the mix, too). I was on my way, and I was going forward in a financially stable manner.
Then I looked at my wallet. In it sat two very lonely $1 bills. I had two dollars to my name and I was going off to college in one week. As I felt a wave of anxiety flood through my system, I wrote it off as a fluke and banked on the notion that my on-campus job would provide enough security to weather this small storm. I would re-build my savings because I was a worker and I’d always been a saver. I would continue to make smart financial choices because I vowed to myself that I’d never struggle like my parents had. Or so I thought..
This post is part of my Confessions of a PF Blogger series. Other posts include:
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: The Series
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: No Happy Meal for You
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: $0.25 per Quart
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: 16 Candles
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: $5,500 in Cash
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: A Slow Slide into Credit Card Debt Hell
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: $1 to My Name
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: Homeless
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: Powerless
- Confessions of a PF Blogger: A Second Chance
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