I’ve been thinking a lot in the last 36 hours.  In fact, I’ve been so deep in thought that I can’t remember whether I took the Excedrin I’d planned to take at 3:00.  I’m becoming my mother.

Yesterday I learned that a close friend of mine received something of a windfall.  During her family’s Christmas gathering, her husband’s grandfather gave each of his children and grandchildren a check for $10,000.  This isn’t the first time he’s ever done it, but it is the first time he’s done it since my friend entered the picture.

It’s a real blessing for them, especially right now.  When they married, my friend lost state benefits including food stamps and a daycare subsidy for her toddler.  After paying for daycare, they found that her job was netting very little.  Once they accounted for the hassle of getting the household up at dawn, juggling one car between two employed adults, eating out more often because they were both tired, and other little “costs of employment,” they decided that my friend would quit her job and stay home with her daughter.  Long story short, they are broke, and $10,000 made a world of difference for them.

They are spending it wisely.  They are going to pay a school debt that my friend owes, catch up on some back taxes that her husband owes, and hire a lawyer to see about reducing the amount of child support her husband has to pay.  He currently pays twice as much as the standard 20%, meaning that his newly-married ex-wife pays the mortgage on her nice new home with his money while he lives in a shabby and seriously ghetto apartment complex. They are also going to put down a rental deposit on a duplex or townhouse (and finance a move), have a proper Christmas, and “pay it forward” by gifting $500 to someone who really needs it.  I think that’s great.

I spent some time thinking about what I would do with $10,000.  I probably wouldn’t pay my own back taxes, because $10,000 wouldn’t cover it once the fines and penalties are added.  But I have plenty of other expenses.  I’d catch up my own school debt and pay for a semester of community college.  I’d pay off my student loan entirely, which would eat up about a quarter of the money — but would enable me to get financial aid, including loans, in the future.  I would get a cheap but reliable car.  I would get either new glasses, or contacts, or both.  I would buy new socks, because it turns out that I only have one pair of matching socks at this point.  I lived in freaking Missouri the last time I bought socks.  I would buy underwear and bras and earrings.  I would buy some books.  I’d file bankruptcy, so that I can attempt to start over again.

Of course, no one is going to give me $10,000.  It’s really just mental masturbation.

When I think about excess amounts of money, my mind invariably wanders to Allison, someone I knew when I was a child.  We were in the same third-grade class, but that’s about all we had in common.  Allison, though not really pretty, was extremely well-groomed.  She got perms regularly and her hair was always fixed in a barette with a bow on it.  Her mother made the barettes, and gave me one for my tenth birthday. 

I went to Allison’s house exactly one time, and I doubt I will ever forget it.  When my dad pulled into her driveway, I was already in awe.  Allison lived in the nicest neighborhood in our city.  It would be considered upper middle class even by Dallas standards.  Six of the houses in my neighborhood would have easily fit into her one house.  And it was during Christmas break, so the house was decorated.  It was absolutely beautiful.  Her parents weren’t there, and Allison’s 16-year-old sister was watching us.  She made lunch for us — whatever we wanted!   The idea of being able to pick anything I wanted from a well-stocked kitchen was a bit overwhelming for me.

In addition to the twenty-foot Christmas tree in their foyer, there were other fresh Christmas trees throughout the house.  The living room, the den, Allison’s basement playroom… And one beautifully-decorated three-foot tree in Allison’s perfect bedroom.  At the time, I was amazed that she had her own telephone and television.  Looking back, I can see the amount of not just money, but also TIME, that Allison’s mother put into giving her children a nice life. 

Allison wasn’t spoiled and she wasn’t mean.  She showed up to school every day in lovely and undoubtedly expensive clothes, but it would never have crossed her mind to make fun of what someone else was wearing.  She was raised well in every sense of the word, and though I only ever met her mother once, I have continued to admire her for the nearly 20 years it’s been since I last saw Allison. 

In short, I feel as though I am living life WRONG.  Sometimes it flashes through my head, lolcat-style: “U R DOING IT WRONG.”

If life is choices, then I have consistently made the wrong ones.

How do you unravel nine years of bad choices?