I come to believe that all of society is one big mechanism for taking my money. Sad fact is that I don’t have very much to begin with, and most of it was begged off of willing parties (parents, grandparents, the federal department responsible for student loans). And then, I walk out into the world, and watch as my paltry sums are taken, as I am positively stripped bare of any resources by the world around me. The editor said it makes one reconsider being a deadbeat. After all, when your standards are so low, there’s no need for Turtle Wax ($3.29), new socks ($5, but no holes!), or car repairs ($∞). And knowing that somewhere someone is getting rich off of all this? Not priceless. I’d like to meet the fool who realized they could charge an extra $3 to every moviegoer for making the thing “3D.” Biggest scam ever. Probably one of the most successful. Or the people who sit around in cubicles, trying to figure out where to strategically place all the items in Target so that it would betray the laws of the universe to get out of there for less than fifty dollars  a purchase.

There are stores on every corner, from gas stations hawking cold soda to mega-big-box-stores to places where one can apparently drop thousands of dollars on a new couch. There are internet shops, and mail-order catalogs, and people asking for donations at stop lights. It’s like the whole world feels like Adam Sandler in The Wedding Singer: “There’s a lot of money out there, I’m trying to get my hands on some…We’re living in a material world and I’m a material girl. Or boy.”

And it’s not just about filling one’s desire to fill their house. Or having something to do on the weekends that involves ice cold AC. It’s about living up to a standard. Not just a standard of living – yes, I admit, I think that hot water and clean sheets and towels and fresh fruit are pretty necessary for my well-being. But what about the side  that I have to keep up? Like the cell phone. It’s not just that without it, I couldn’t communicate with my sister as much. It’s that…who doesn’t have a cell phone? Can you imagine having to ask someone to borrow their phone every time you needed to get a ride, or check on an appointment, or get back to your mother to let her know you’re okay? What about if you showed up at your classes wearing shoes that were that side of usable condition – would people notice? Or the car – yeah, I suppose I could ride my bike. In the 100 degree weather. Or make up some scheme to take the bus, thereby increasing my commute time by an order of magnitude. But really? I’m no fanatic.

I admit, again, a lot of the things that I spend money on are pretty discretionary. But sometimes I feel like it’s just part of a system. A money-extraction process that has convinced us to do things a certain way – a way that fills others pockets. Remember Star Trek VI? “Let us redefine progress to mean that just because we can do a thing, it does not necessarily mean we must do that thing.” Yeah, my friends and I can scrounge up a small pile of money and go out to eat. But why couldn’t we combine efforts and make our own dinners? Sure, we’d lose on convenience, and it might mean moving a bit out of the comfort zone…

But remember – the system is all about keeping you in the comfort zone. It’s like the matrix. Where you are just happy enough not to get up. Just complacent enough to not change the channel. Where the AC is nice, so you’ll browse a bit longer. But  I’d like to be able to go out without feeling like I am suffering from a slow fiscal hemorrhage. And I know, we’re not supposed to care what people think. Who gives a care? But we do care what others think. We can’t just wander off with a machete, hacking a trail in some weird direction, with our peers looking quizzically down the dark path we have forged, some raising eyebrows, some just walking off, and maybe a few tentatively following. Or maybe we could. Just a little. So what do you think? Could we bend the rules a bit? I don’t mean to start wearing sandals we made with home-grown grass, or swearing off commercial entertainment, or making the thrift shop our sole provider. But, instead, realizing that the world is out to get our money. And thinking, maybe, just today, that we won’t let them have it that easy.