Old Perceptions

The man just inside the door of the Torii beats his hands against his upper arms and stomps his feet. "It's cold!"

"Yeah it is," I laugh. A few days ago I was giving Dreamer shit for complaining about the weather, but I've had to abandon the flipflops myself recently for a pair of sneakers, and I rarely take off my hoodie anymore to run around in a T-shirt, "I can't wait for my winter stuff to arrive."

"Oh?" Billy asks, straightening is lab coat.

"Didn't I tell you? They threatened to impound it and left it all in New England."

"What?"

"Yeah. The state wouldn't let them bring it in because they thought I was importing moths."

"Moths... like ugly butterflies?"

"Yeah it's totally absurd. I stayed home the day they were suppose to deliver and when they missed their dropoff appointment of my crate I called... and that's when they told me it was still in New England."

"That really is absurd," Billy laughed.

"Can't you have them spray it down?" the man in the doorway asked.

"There are no moths in it! Just old computers and clothes!"

"Well to convince them?"

"I filled out some import forms stating there weren't any moths. My stuff is suppose to be here in another 2-3 weeks... unless the shipping company messes up again."

"I have a women's coat in my car," he said.

"Oh...well um... I don't need... I have mine coming you know... in the shipping crate."

"I'm not going to use it."

"I don't want to take your things..."

But Chris was gone again in a gust of cold air which ripped in the doorway, and a few seconds later he handed me a warm heavy jacket.

In college I wore the same light coat all four years through the New England winter, with various layers of sweatshirts and hoodies underneath it. Heavy winter coats were expensive.

The embroidery on the front of the new coat said "The North Face." I remember kids in Waldorf, and rich girls from high school having coats like this.

"I don't..." I said, "want to take your things..."

***

I got paid last week, my first real paycheck. It was combined with my relocation bonus, and even with taxes the amount made me laugh because of how much of a year's cost of living it represented.

It will not be my entire yearly living budget, however. The knowledge of this permits me the luxury of buying things like a single coat which will replace many layers of other clothing.

I dress a lot better than I have in years. There are no tears in any of my clothing, and all of it is relatively comfortable and moderately fashionable; yet I still come across as that kid who is too broke to get herself a winter coat. That's not the person I want to be. There isn't a lot more despicable in my mind than a person who projects a need with isn't real, and which is filled by the charity of others. Charity should go to the people who need it most...

***

I am most certainly not lamenting the change of my financial state, but I find it puzzling at times.

"Atom," I ask, "I'll make more than I need this year. What should I do with it?"

"You need me to tell you that?"

My head filled with the image of filling my home with playpen balls.

"Ok," I corrected myself, "What would a responsible adult do?"

I could hear him grinning through the text box, "You're asking me?"

"Answer the fucking question..."

"Invest it?"

"I don't want to play the stock market."

"A wise choice,"

"But you said..."

"Invest...yes, forex, bank CDs..."

"Whats?"

Atom sighed, "Well, it looks like we have some studying to do, don't we?"

I guess I'm not quite as prepped to not need parents as I'd like to pretend I am.