Money Can't Buy Happiness, But it Can Keep You Alive

So I sit here looking at my week ahead and I come to the harsh and yet totally normal reality that despite everything I find myself working almost every single day this week. Today is coaching. Thursday, Friday, Saturday is Urban Outfitters. And I can pretty much guarantee you that I will be working again on Sunday. And what is it all for? For the minimum wage pay that barely covers rent and food not to mention the gas getting from place to place, the utility bills to pay, being forced to eat out several times a week because I have a break from work and need food. So if money can’t buy you happiness, then why is it so damn important to live?

I decided, for laughs, to sit down and figure out how much I actually work a week when you factor in travel time and divide that by how much I make before taxes. I work approximate 37 hours a week if you factor in travel time. I get paid, however, monthly and so if you figure that we are looking at more like 148 hours of work/driving a month. And so, all in all, once it is all factored up I make approximately $7.80 an hour working.

For some out there, that might seem like a good amount of money especially if you live in a state where a living wage is $7 an hour because the cost of living is so cheap. I live in California, however, where the cost of living is so high that in our major cities we have a required $10 an hour minimum wage for within city limits to make up for the fact that rent to live there is so damn expensive. It would only figure to make sense then that in a city with such high rent and thus high wage that all other expenses, from groceries to gas, would be so highly inflated.

So why do I work so much in a city like Santa Cruz where everything is insanely expensive and nothing is free only to find money slipping out of my hands faster than I can bring it in? What’s the point? The point is that money, in life, is everything. Our entire society is built on the idea that you have to have money in some amount in order to live. Even the homeless, living on the streets, need to beg for enough money to buy food because without cash there would be no meal and without meals they were eventually die. And so while it may be said that money can’t buy happiness, it sure as hell will at least keep you alive.

I'm Out!


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Thrifty Spice

So there are several pretty damn magical aspects about Santa Cruz that you don’t really realize until you’re trapped here twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. One of the few pleasures of this town is the fact that it is practically swimming with thrift stores (most likely to serve the ever expanding quantity of homeless people wandering the streets downtown).  One of the finest gems in this category is found nestled on Front Street between two kind of scary parking lots. Because of the fact that it is known by several different names I’ll list them all here so everyone will know what I am talking about: Thrift Center, Santa Cruz Thrift, Community Thrift Store, and the 50% off store.

Today was the day when my ladies and I ventured off campus to go on a date night down to the Thrift Center. I have to say, I FUCKING LOVE THIS STORE. Vern got some cute shit and Vic got a little sexy black beaded onesie that she’s cutting the thong off of. I know, sounds bizarre but believe me it’s going to be sexy as fucknuts. And, even though I’m on what can only be describe as a vagabond budget, managed out the door with a T-Shirt that says “Property of Captain Morgan”. Now come on, is anything truer? I think not. I’ve taken it and cut it up into a tank for the beach tomorrow. Super excited!

So now we come to the real issue in this post, is anything better than a good thrift store? I mean, come on. When you’re in college and you need new clothes because you feel weird wearing the same thing to the same class multiple times where else will you shop? You can’t exactly go to Urban Outfitters or American Apparel every time you need a new fucking shirt or shorts. So you are left going to a store where you buy things that were probably made before you were and people gave them up to get fifty cents taken off their taxes at the end of the year. And you know what? I love it.

So we come to the question of the day: What is your favorite place to buy cheap shit? What do you usually get there? Leave a comment (any maybe a picture of your favorite thing?).

Ok, back to watching The Phantom of the Opera with my ladies.

Peace out shitfaces.