Responsibility

I was taught responsibility from a young age. It started with simply putting the silverware into the drawer from the dishwasher, since I was too small to reach the cupboards. Then it was doing my own laundry. Then it was loading the dishwasher. Then it was loading the dishwasher, unloading the dishwasher, taking out the trash, taking out the dog, cleaning my room, getting myself up on time for school, etc. If I needed help with something, I just asked, but I was also expected to explain why I needed help. If it was reasonable, such as I just didn’t have enough time to do the chore since I was bogged down with homework, then I would get the help.

Since I’ve been a part of the workforce, I have had the responsibility of paying my own bills. True, I get help from college financial aid, but that is something I’m going to have to pay back. I’m also working. So it isn’t like I’m getting a free ride. If I have an emergency, my parents will help me, such as when my car’s engine died, and they gave me the money to buy a used car, because it was an emergency. I paid them back the next year. As they put it on their most recent visit, my “credit is good with them”.

Some people in my life seem not to know how to take responsibility for themselves. They blame depression, or the job market, or that they weren’t raised the same way I was. The latter I can understand. Work ethic and your responsibility level partially comes from how you were raised. However, when you’re just too damn lazy to grow up, it is a problem. I can understand depression. I’ve been depressed most of my 25 years. However, I also know that I’m 25 years old, there are bills to pay, food to buy, and I can’t rely on someone else to wipe my ass. I don’t use people. This isn’t about one person in particular, but a host of people that I know. I’m just shocked. If I was unemployed, not looking for work, mooching off my friends/partner, and skipping school as well, my parents would be so embarrassed. Then when you ask these people to do something, they freak out. Like you’re asking them to run the United States.

At this point, frustration has overwhelmed me. I feel like running down the street screaming. I can’t be the responsible one anymore. I’m so tired of being the responsible one. I know some, even myself, would view that as a good thing, but when is it my turn to just say “I don’t give a damn”?

Hungry for Death and Power?

Recently, I bought an E-reader at a discounted price. What was the first book I bought for it? The Hunger Games. I had heard so much about how great it was, and how people were psyched for the movie version. The book did not disappoint.

While I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t read it, the basic premise is that the story is set in a dystopian future, where a central government rules over twelve districts following a great war. Every year, as a reminder of the district’s disobedience of the government during the war, the government holds the Hunger Games, which pits one male teen (12-18) and one female teen from each district against the others in a death match. Only one of the kids can survive. That kid ensures his district a steady stream of supplies, and becomes a celebrity, and a mentor to future Games “contestants” from their district. The thing that brings this all home to readers is the fact that the Games are televised as a reality show, and are “produced” as such. If the “contestants” are too boring, and are not fighting enough, the Gamemakers can try to kill the “contestants” themselves with traps and tricks, or force them to battle each other. The “contestants” also have sponsors that can give them gifts in the arena that can help them.

The brilliant author, Suzanne Collins, got her idea when flipping channels and saw both coverage of the Iraq war, and reality shows. How far away are we from a situation like the Hunger Games? How far are we from a situation like 1984? We already have a show on TV that follows people living in a house for three months and having to vote to evict each other (Big Brother). In the international versions of the show, the audience chooses who to evict. They choose who is deemed unworthy. While it is all fun and games, and no one gets hurt, how far away are we from a situation where someone does get hurt? Society’s fascination with reality shows can only last so long with the way they stand now. How long until something happens that makes reality shows too real?

I’m not saying that we’re going to have an all-powerful all-knowing government, ala Big Brother in 1984. Do I think that really could happen though? Absolutely. Nothing that Orwell wrote about was impossible. And nothing that Collins wrote about is either.

Writing

Writing.

It is something that... I have given up to be completely honest.

I shouldn't say that. I haven't given it up completely. I just don't write as I had envisioned myself doing. By this time in my life (age 25), I had pictured myself spending weekends in the park with a notebook or my laptop just writing or typing away. Instead, I spend my weekends studying business ethics and accounting practices as an accounting major, and dreading going to work the next day. I still write, but I have ideas that just don’t seem to come out.

I had this grand idea for a series of novels all revolving around one town, and one central group of friends. It was a bit of a soap opera to be honest. It would follow mainly one character from the age of 15 to around the age of 40. It would contain stories of his parents, siblings, and friends, but he would be the central character around which the others orbited. I have his biography written out up to the age of about 28. I know how I want his life to go. I know what song I want playing on the stereo the first time he makes love with his true love. I have this all planned out in my head. Why can’t I write it all out?

I have started keeping a journal. A journal of my history. I am writing it so that my future children can look at it and say, “This is our dad the way he saw it”. Not what my friends or family tell them. Yes I know, I could just tell them myself with my voice, but what if I forget something? Or what if I don’t live long enough to tell them?

That’s what has me worried about my writing. I feel like I need to get something published in my life. It is my goal. I gave up on being an English major because I knew I needed a career. So therefore, I’m an accounting major. Oh I like it, don’t get me wrong. Numbers come easily to me, and I like managing money. But, I still want to be a writer, and I still want to create, and I still want to be recognized for it.

I keep having a recurring dream where I just quit work, and focus on writing for six months. I know a true writer should give it more time than six months, but in my dream, that’s all I can afford. And in that six months, I tell myself, if I don’t write something that I consider worthy to be published, then I’ll never write again. I don’t know if I should give myself that ultimatum or not, but it is something that I’ve been thinking about a lot.

Money

I was inspired to write a blog again thanks to a former teacher's blog. And this first entry is inspired by them as well.

I am a watcher of money. My money, other people's money. In my job, I hear people go on and on about how they can't afford payments. In my education, I'm learning how to account for others financial activities. In my life, I keep track of my spending using spreadsheets. To a point, I also keep track of my roommates' spending habits since they affect me as well.

I have never been late on a payment for a credit card. I have never been late on paying any bill. I do not ask for money from my family unless it is an absolute emergency. I follow Suze Orman religiously. I have enough in savings where if I had to be unemployed I could manage for a few months (not 8 months like Suze says, but I'm trying). There are very few times that I've had to worry about paying rent, and usually that is only when a big emergency has come up such as my car breaking down. Yet, I worry about money relentlessly.

Growing up, I wouldn't say that I was poor. I would say we struggled. There were times where my mom had to obtain welfare. But, we were never without. We always had food. We always had a roof over our heads. I always had what I needed for school. At first, I was not ashamed to wear clothes from Value Village or Goodwill (this came later on). I learned not to ask for things I didn't need unless it was my birthday or Christmas, in which case, I have to admit, I was spoiled. I was the baby of the family, and seemed to get a good amount of presents on these days. I think my family enjoyed rewarding me with these presents. But I didn't get anything beyond a bag of Skittles or Runts normally as a treat. The one big present I remember getting that wasn't on my birthday or Christmas was when my mom had won big at Bingo, and she treated me to a Super Nintendo (years after it had come out). My dad, no matter what, made it a point that if I needed something, he would fork up the money for it. Members of my family made financial mistakes (bankruptcy), and I observed this years before I probably should have since I was the youngest in a family where the next closest member was 18 years older than me. I understood what these financial mistakes meant by the time I was 10, and I knew I didn't want to make these mistakes. That has probably what has influenced me the most when it comes to money.

For years I refused to take out student loans. I didn't want to graduate school with debt. Unfortunately, I am not in a position any longer where I can afford NOT to take out those loans. I have to tell myself that they are for my future. That is what helps me sleep at night.

I live within my means, and only recently bought my first IPOD with money from my tax return since it was extra money that was not needed to pay bills. When my only roommate with a job recently quit hers due to circumstances beyond her control, I took up the reigns and paid the rent for myself and two others. It meant tightening the belt, but luckily, I had grown up with the belt already tight and knew how to handle it. I track my 401k bi-weekly. I don't want to burden my kids, just in the same way my father does not want to burden me.

So even though I am technically financially sound for a 25 year old who has to work to live, I worry about money all the time. It is the times we live in unfortunately.