Where The Gamblers Thrive

For years I have equalled "saving" with sanctity.

Discounts, promo codes, coupons, BOGOs; yet none of it stacked up to simply just doing without.

Praise me! Applause, please. Hear my fiscal philosophy:

Store brand toilet paper? You bet. (And you better double-up ... )

3-pack knockoffs that never last as long, work as well, or taste as good? "Yeah but we have it when we need it."

Washing my hair with bar soap because I'm exhausted by the over-promised, never delivered shitstorm of solutions looking for a problem? See above.

Those ding-ding machines in the back of the gas station? Too busy driving by to save 4 cents a gallon up the road.

Choosing the value meal that's more stale bread than food so others can eat what they need? It's fine, I'll have something at the house.

"But look how much I saved!", I oozed with sanctimonious thrill.

Yes, look.

Just look at what I've sacrificed.

How much joy have I wasted because it wasn't on sale? How much could I have gained but failed?

How much happiness could I have banked by choosing myself instead?

I don't gamble — but I placed all my bets on a life that didn't add up.

The chips are down and I'm staring at the gauntlet of something brand new.

I don't have one damned dollar saved.

I'm putting college on a credit card and hoping my math skills can keep up.

I'm choosing to try something else. I'm placing this bet on 25 good years of hard work, stable pay, and need.

I'm betting 22 months on nothing but a gut instinct and a disquieting, unfamiliar sense of confidence.

Maybe that's the real lesson here. It's time to risk it all.