{Prov. 22:7}

I distinctly remember the first time I fed my debt monkey.  I already had one — see:  student loans – but it was small and cute and furry and could eat very little over a very long time.

But … I wanted my debt monkey to grow. 

And grow.

And grow.

Now, I didn’t intend my current personal Gorilla of Foolishness, a’cours. 

But I do recall experiencing a certain feeling of accomplishment the first time I handed over to the clerk my personal piece of that plastic fantastic and the sense that I was no longer limited by (and to) the money in my pocket … that I was now adulting in earnest, and had access to money = magic. 

I could see stuff and like stuff and buy stuff and take stuff away and need not need the actual funds to pay for stuff because some time later there would be a bill, and I would make a payment, and over time me and my monkey learned to love to play together … more and more and lots of lot. 

And my monkey didn’t need to work oh!ho!no!  My monkey was for shiny things that pass away, with no lasting meaning, purpose, or value.  Swing, monkey, swing!

The “stuff” is not important and long gone; BUT! the sense of … dare I say it … freedom that came with the use of a “credit” card, and truth be told, the notable status boost on self-esteem, self-image, and self-awareness, is one of the reasons my monkey got so large. 

For me, the initial use of a “credit” card before cash was the shift in perspective from stepping off the bus to stepping out a Porsche – it’s a different look to/from/at the world.

Inattentive spending habits coupled with lack of financial literacy added to a general dislike and disrespect of money equals big monkey poo. 

But now I pay attention and understand and while never love will defer to the importance of money and my marriage to it.

Time to teach the monkey new tricks.