Gimme That Dollar

As I drug myself out of bed this morning at 4:45 am, I couldn't help but wonder who was I really getting out of bed for. That got me to thinking about money and how the majority of us chases that little green monster called the dollar which snowballs into chasing another and another. Some of us are lucky enough to catch one, others not so much. Usually by the time I have caught one it's already spent. I don't live above my means. My car and home are modest. I don't get regular mani/pedi's and it doesn't cost a fortune to get my hair done (not yet anyway). The only splurge I have is handbags. My former bag purchase routinely was two new glorious pieces a year. Last year I was able to eek out five fantastic couture handbags. In my mind that means I have arrived. I am no longer confined to hoarding mad cash, pacing back and forth in front of a glass case to not so eagerly hand it over to a woman wearing a starched black suit, in school marm shoes with a perfect coiffure. I can leisurely browse and then buy when the new season's styles roll in (in a fit of fury, of course). Crazy for some. Completely sane for others.

So who do I work for? Louis Vuitton? Kate Spade? Nah, I do it all for myself...