COLUMN: No Money, Mo’ Problems
If the lyric, “mo’ money mo’ problems,” is correct, odds are good that most of us are living carefree lives.
But with the average diet of a college student consisting of Hot Pockets and Macaroni and Cheese (plus whatever mom sends via care package) how accurate are this multi millionaire’s words?
Of course, maybe Mr. Diddy and I have a different definition of “problems”.
His problems most likely consist of fighting off paparazzi, paying extravagant wages to over celebrated hip-hop stars and not getting shot by crazed gang members who remember the 90’s. If this is the case, then yes, with more money does come more problems; But how I wouldn’t love to look at my bank account and see a positive in front of the $100 statement instead of a negative.
I never thought in my wildest dreams that I’d eat leftovers that were almost a week old or drink milk that may or may not be solidifying. Not until I got into college, that is. Since I’ve been here at USU I’ve learned everything from logarithms to the accuracy of the movie “300”, but I still haven’t learned how to make a dollar out of 15 cents.
This thought came creeping into my head one morning as I was sitting at my computer going over my finances. I discovered I had spent more on my math 1050 book than I’d spent on groceries all semester. I was so disturbed by this discovery that I called my younger brother for a little sympathy, but all I got was an annoyed sibling with a side of wisdom.
“Stop being such a little baby,” my brother said in a loving tone during a phone call from Boston. “You chose to go to college, you knew how much it cost, and you knew how much you made, so suck it up and move on.”
At first I was more than annoyed at my brothers response to my heartfelt problem, but then I got over my big brother syndrome and realized he was on to something. I chose this life of a starving college student.
Wait, I didn’t just choose this, I worked my butt off in high school to attain it. I was excited when my parents dropped me off at my dorm room freshman year. Now I realize their tears were not of distress over loosing their first-born son to the colligate life, but tears of laughter.
This thought, I believe, was more disturbing than the discovery that I was in debt $100 for a math book. Of course my pile of textbooks aren’t the only expenses that have brought a surge of anxiety through my stomach. Upon dusting off my calculator I was able to figure out that every semester I’m paying roughly $33 a day to attend school. Wowza, I’m only making $300 a month! Maybe I can get a direct deposit from work into my school account and just cut out the middleman completely.
So Mr. Diddy might have had a point when he so intelligently stated that with more money comes more problems, but even though I’m not getting shot at by gangsters or photographers, I’m still only eating Hot Pockets and cereal. And soon, if all else fails, I’ll eat my pile of text books.
Greg Boyles is a junior majoring in print journalism. You can reach him at greg.boyles@aggiemail.usu.edu.