recovery

In one of the rare lucid moments after my grandmother died, my mother told me about inheritance. She’d been left money, and some of it would be going to me. I then had what I considered the ugliest thought I’d had in a long time: I was going to get to pay off one of my student loans. I was happy about this. I was happy that my grandmother died because it meant that I could pay off the worst of my student loans–a monster with a 10% interest rate.*

When I get large chunks of money, I pause and look at the numbers. I think about going to China or fixing my beloved Raleigh. I consider donating it somewhere I think it will do good. I think of the expensive, the frivolous, or the things I can never bring myself to do: the motorcycle license class, a new travel pack. I think about how I could have savings, and how crazy that would be. Then, instead, I do what I always do. I send it to Sallie Mae.

*Or I will be able to, if/when all the legal/finance stuff goes through.

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