The Root of All Evil

In an effort prepare me for life outside of my basement apartment, mom and dad have been trying to teach me a few skills they feel will be beneficial to me later on. This includes financial literacy. A couple nights ago we talked about what I should be doing with my money. I didn't know there were other things to do except count it, buy what I want, and then let dad put the rest into some savings thing. CDs (which, despite popular belief, actually stands for Certificates of Deposit and not Compact Discs), Mutual Funds, Bonds, Stocks, 401Ks...Ah! I have actually shed tears over my inability to understand these concepts, even though Coach Dupaix is teaching me, too. Dad didn't really understand the grimness of the situation until he looked at my check book. My last record of anything (and okay, Mom wrote it in) was on July 17th. Oops. It's hard to remember to write things down when I only spend $2.25 at Thrift Town every once in a while.
So, our parents staged this intervention due to these reckless purchases I make and subsequently forget about. I am now a changed person. I haven't used my debit card or forgotten to write down a purchase in over four days. I'm getting there.

And...back by popular demand.

Here is a picture of me in my ugly blue suit I wore all summer. This is for you, Lindsay, so you better appreciate it.