At last count, I had one pair of defunct glasses, an old electric toothbrush and three contact lenses--not three pairs of contact lenses, mind you, but three individual lenses. Yet, I dug into my savings today in order to pay for my next three months of health insurance.

My bill actually came last month, but I avoided it, hoping Blue Cross would just cut off my broke, part-time ass without calling home. But after my father had his surgery, my mom asked me to make an appointment for a check-up, and I had to tell her the truth. They freaked out, obviously.

"I exercise and eat right," my recuperating father pointed out, "and look what happened to me." It's true--he has twice the energy of men half his age. It's only those extra years that work against him.

So I pulled out my checkbook, more out of guilt than actual concern for potential mishaps headed in my direction. And I can't regret it--even if I'm not diving out of planes or climbing mountains, at least my parents feel secure.

So now my checking account is bare, and I have to make up for what I took out of savings from my next paycheck. Oh, and I'm going to a Nine Inch Nails concert in a few days. I probably wouldn't be so dirt poor if I didn't squander my earnings on, say, those five Fables trades and fancy food. But I'm under the misconception that, as a young, fit and middle class woman, I'm invulnerable to a number of diseases and accidents. And I've convinced myself that I need organic food to survive.

Well, at least I'm aware of the fact that I'm a complete tool when it comes to money and health. And knowing is half the battle.

In other news, I finally completed the work for my TESOL specialization course. Now I can get my hands dirty and gloat over miniscule achievements in my cover letters and resume. I'm ready to be deported!