I didn't even make any extravagant purchases this semester. No shoes, no silver bibs and bobs that I like, not even perfume. I guess eating at fancy restaurants all the time or just grabbing that ice cold latte or that bubble tea does add up in the long run. My expenses freaking rival my semester fees. I must have been eating out a lot. Oh. I forgot my doctor's fees, my highly priced books, my new denim jacket and skirt. Most of it is on food. Blah. Doesn't change the fact that my expenditure has gone up by one hundred percent since I arrived in Australia the first year. Where did that thrifty, "I rather starve so that I can get money to buy that latest Robert Jordan novel" girl go to?

And my mother doesn't realise it but she stresses me out when she tells me that Daddy might get retrenched or the little brat got a new mobile phone and we have to cut back on expenses. After I told her I bought a magazine after holding out for a week. (Yes, I am that broke.)

I have just realised that I have a morbid fear of being poor. Not abject poverty, which I have never experienced, not even indirectly (and never shall so long as I can earn money, fortune willing), and can never empathise or understand enough unless I am in that situation. All in all which makes me furious at myself because that is such a terrible blind and self centred view.

Especially when taken in perspective that my idea of poor is based not on the lack of basic needs, but on the lack of luxuries that we take for granted. I will never be in that situation. Never. This I swear. I am scared. Terrified. Nervous.

No cool computer games, no culinary treats, no cute, funky things that catch my eye. No books or no new cds. I remember watching this documentary about a trainee-chef with a family dependent on him, who saves for an entire year to get a recipe book that cost 60 dollars. I spend 60 dollars on a night out to play CS!

I suppose, the more you own, the more acquisitive you become. Spoilt. I wonder if I will survive if I get thrown into adversity.

And this is just a random outburst: I love my mom. She frustrates me, but on a good day after we talk, I feel absolutely grateful and loved. I may have hurt her feelings again today. Double damn.