MINDSALAD

190811. moola moola.

I was at Aritzia yesterday, musing at this beautiful, sheer short-sleeved blouse, a perfect addition to my work wanna-be-professional clothing collection. But much to my dismay, reality slapped me in the face as I turned over the price tag, $85+tax. Pretty much $100. But it was just a blouse. Seriously, did I miss something? Apparently, money grows on trees nowadays.

As I came back down to earth, I turned, and at the corner of my eye, caught a glimpse of a 12 year-old, at the fitting room, trying on that very same glorious piece of clothing. You could see it in her eyes, that beam of confidence, the glimmer of pride. Her, also 12 year-old, friend whispered something in her ear and they giggled as they continued to admire themselves in the glowing mirror, flipping their blonde hair in the non-existent wind. I imagined them in their little pubescent bodies saying something like, “Ohhh, you want this Michelle? Well, you can’t have it. My new iPhone app tells me its the new hot trend. And mommy tells me I haven’t maxed out my credit cards this month yet.”

Well, no. No I can’t afford it. haha. As much as I’m like, “Whoopty-doo, finally made it to med school after these bajillion years”, I’m pretty much on welfare. The reality of things is, I will have no inflow of cash until at least residency 4 years from now. And even then, that income will not be substantial. The illusionary abundance of money that people perceive physicians to have, doesn’t come until about a decade after the beginning of school. So for now, yes, I have a huge line of credit available to me. But it’s one that I must pay interest immediately on. AKA, it’s just a massive pile of potential debt. Me right now? Zero money.

It’s kind of funny. My family jokes about how by the time I get out, I should buy them cars, etc. And I would gladly do so. I owe them that much after all the things they’ve done for me. But when you think about the fact that my parents will be in their 70s and my siblings will be in their late 30s when I get out of med school, you realize they likely would have everything they need by then. Married, established home-owners, with kids, 2 dogs and the whole white-picket fence already. Then finally, when I am sufficiently sleep-deprived, malnourished, and physically aged with crowsfeet and a slightly balding patch of hair, I will be rolling in the cash. Yay! Forever dependent.

190811. mi casa.

Man, what a nice change of scenery from my place in Windsor. It has been so nice moving into the heart of downtown Toronto. Yesterday, I literally left my condo, walked to the Eaton Centre, returned an item at Aritzia and Banana Republic, shopped around a little, and managed to get home, all in under half an hour. Every dinner date or drink night this week? Less than a 10 minute walk. Haha.

But it’s so much more than that. It’s the liveliness of Yonge-Dundas Square, the lights and nightscape of skyscrapers from my living room, the accessibility of pretty much everything you need, right at your very fingertips.

The only downside? My credit cards have been getting the biggest beat-down of their lives. With daily visits to the mall, I have spent more in these last 3 days than I typically do in a month. Meh. :)

P.s. Yes, 90% of the things in my condo are from Ikea. Bahaha.

030511. cash-strapped, welfare child.

Given that I eat out at least one meal a day, my monthly food bill typically runs at ~$300-400. So believe me, I was bewildered when the cashier looked at me and said my bill came to $95. And this was only a “quick grocery run”. Gosh, the money-spending train needs to be stopped. 

Only my McCain Deep and Delicious cake can comfort me now.

180411. blast from the past.

As I slipped them on, I knew they were going to be a struggle. They were more than five inches, close to six, Lady Gaga style.

But as I stood and walked towards the mirror, I towered above the racks and felt like a giant once again. I straightened my neck, kept my shoulders back, and locked my knees.

I stopped in my tracks as I crossed paths with another woman. She gave me the up and down and marveled, “Wow, you have a fantastic walk.”

I reveled in that moment, reminiscing the days on the catwalk. I opened my mouth, excited to say, “I used to model.” But then I stopped myself, smiled, coyly said thanks and walked away. 

As you get older, you begin to realize that yes, there were things that once were a big part of your life. And as glorious as it may have been, it is a part of the past.

I refuse to be that high school physics teacher who claims he once could have been an astronaut. Rather, I will celebrate who I am today, and smile at the path that got me here.