Thursday, January 13, 2011

Nine hours. It took me nine hours to write 16 words on a Hallmark card, and it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. Now, this isn’t to say it was nine solid hours–that would’ve been just a tiny bit insane–but the damn card sat on my desk for most of the workday. I’d look at it, cook up a sentence, and then scrap everything, only to start all over again. Rinse. Repeat. At about 5:50 PM, the right words finally struck, and by 6 PM the sealed envelope went down the mail chute. That was that–the end to a chapter and a topic we hopefully won’t soon revisit.

What I want to discuss instead tonight is money, specifically the saving thereof. It’s traditionally been difficult for me. The long-term savings habits have been easy, strangely enough. I’m talking 401(k), IRA, FSA, and even the occasional tithe. But when it comes to liquid cash, I find it mysteriously turns into Blu-rays, burritos, video games, movie tickets, and things of that nature in short order. But something’s changed in the past few months. There’s been a Renaissance in personal money management, and I suspect video games–yes, video games–are to blame.

I remember one game in particular. Apparently it saw some mainstream coverage on Ellen and The View, so you may have even heard of it. Anyway, it was about a year or two ago, in the wee hours of the morning, when I noticed a curious phenomenon. I’m a certifiable miser in video games! It’s, like, rather than spend my hard-earned bottle caps (the currency of a post-apocalyptic America, obviously) on provisions at the general store, I’ll forage for candy bars and shotgun shells, thank you very much. It’s an odd mindset that draws from a “you against the world” mentality–a world of irradiated mutants, in this case–along with the fun of watching the money counter rise. There’s just something appealing about hearing a “cha-ching!” sound effect, followed by a whirring of numbers.

I’ve been taking the same approach to my savings account. The goal is simple, really. Make the counter go up by ferrying as much money as I can from my checking account, a virtual battleground where American Express, HOA fees, utility bills, and insurance premiums all seek blood on a monthly basis. Instead of violence, I’ve learned frugality from video games, and we’ll see whether this will be sustainable. If nothing else, I’ll be well-prepared for when nuclear winter invariably hits. You’ll know where to find me: high ground with clear, defensible sightlines against zombies, and a supply of dried rat meat. Also, a shitload of bottle caps.