The Lost Meaning of “$”


Money becomes numb and meaningless when you work in the financial sector. My job is to distribute money as told. Sometimes I’m told to give people enormous sums. Sometimes I’m told to pay people at minimum wage. Sometimes I find myself, just for curiosity’s sake, what kind of jobs and employers are paying more than what I make.

This produces a faint desire for more money when I’m at work, but it doesn’t come up much otherwise. I don’t feel like I lack things. There’s a lot of not-wanting. I want to use certain skills in a job and I want to be paid fairly for using those skills, but I won’t go to lengths beyond my principles and interests to make more cash. I can tell from the faceless data I brainlessly process from my eyes to my fingertips that some people will, and do, and probably have a nice big house and a nice car.

I wouldn’t have enough to do with a nice big house, and there is absolutely no purpose for me to have a nice car. Some think this hinders my ambition; I think it preserves my grounded sense of reality and perspective on what things are more solidly grounded than others. I suppose we can find middle ground: I aim to make a bit more money, so I can more quickly populate my empty shelves with books and photos.


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