The Crux of It
I have twenty dollars in my pocket. That's right; not one, not five; even the lowly ten would be agasp. I have twenty whole dollars, conveniently packaged into a single bill.
Oh, however shall I spend this money? I know! I'll buy a house - wait, that's too much... maybe a car? Still aiming too high... *sigh*
I guess I'll go down to the local mini-mart and buy *not beer™* because I'm *not an alcoholic™*. That way, I won't have to go to AA, and I can tell my primary care physician that I drink only on special ocassions. But then, what will I buy?
I know! I'll buy a notebook - a new notebook - although I have twenty; this one is different though, I promise. I'll actually stick with it, and fill it all the way through! It'll contain new subjects, neophilica maxima, and jottings of esoterica so fine you'd have to consult the Sefer Yetzirah to find out their real meaning; their real name; their reality.
Or, I could staple the bill to a telephone pole; I believe in charity, but I also believe in serendipity; randomness. Why should the vague starving Eritreans deserve this twenty dollars more than the precise Aryan in cardigans wandering down 4th avenue, when his belly will be filled just as well?
So many options... so many options... I weigh them.
They weigh fourteen kilograms each. You could cram them in a backpack, or a dufflebag, but could you carry them? They're so dense, but not as dense as I - the one who thought twenty dollars to be nothing; who thought it to be everything; who dared to think; who had such a thought as "better not."
I have twenty dollars.
Mom says, "hold onto it until I get paid; I'll buy you a burrito with my card." I shan't let it go; oughtn't be that hard.
A Pseudo-Opportune Quote for Aforementioned Quotidia
“I am a man of the library, but I know when to leave the scriptorium.”
- ErasmusToodaloo, dude, gotta go read!