Visa, Mastercard, or Aluminum Cans?:

I hate money. I hate it because there is never enough of it and someone always wants some of what little I have. I realize the responsibility of bills and nonsense like that because I do have to pay someone for the services rendered to me. If I go out to eat, I pay them for what I ate... not necessarily the worth of what I ate (because I know a certain college in Sussex that would be in a lot of trouble). Because I have a phone line and internet, despite the crappy line that they installed and a faulty DSL modem, I have to pay a monthly charge. What I do no understand or appreciate is ambiguous charges.

There was a random charge that I was expected to pay regarding mail... I never get any so why do they want to charge me for it? I decided to pay anyway as a gesture of cooperation. There was a small problem though: my money was all up the hill... and it was all in US funds. So as I trudged up the winding hill of Western St. and Summit Ave., I had a devious idea: I have a load of recycling that I have been saving up...

So I returned to the path with music in my ears and a smirk on my face, for I knew that no one would be prepared for my question with a teaming black garbage bag slung over my shoulder:

“Do take aluminum cans as payment?”

Torn:

I hate the stupid things that life throws at you, forcing you to play the bad guy. I hate it how you want to be able to help people out but considering your own situation, you can’t. Today was one of those days that has made me feel like an absolute retard because of the non-choice I had to make.

Last night, a friend had been goofing around and that goofing caused him serious pain. He asked if I could take him to the hospital this morning and stay with him in case something was terribly wrong.

This morning was the ONE morning this week that I have been allotted to work. I don’t have money and I need plenty of it to finish paying bills and make sure that I have the means to actually make it home from here. As it is, I have about $90 to my name to try to get me home. It costs slightly more than that to actually get there. Considering that I’m not just going home, but I’m driving to NYC with the missions team to do ministry first, then Jersey to have my family pick up the van and bring it to my grandpa’s house... I haven’t many options. Sure, I could prostitute myself to get there, but some things (like that) are just outside of my comfort and morality.

So what am I supposed to do in a situation like this? I felt like I had no choice but to say that I couldn’t and then go to work. It’s been eating at me for a bit now. Not to mention that most of everything else today has sucked. It can look up... it will look up... but for now, I’m torn.