Money Changes Everything

Yesterday when get home, recieve check in mail for Movie. Jenny waiting at door. Receives scratch behind ear. Kick off shoes. Set down bag, books, groceries, keys, phone. Jenny playfully takes right shoe to kitchen and hides under table. Chase her. (Paw much improved. Still does not care much for walking outside, but obviously very frisky indoors.) Think about how will spend movie check. Options include shoes (will require supplement), having prints made by aunt art school in the 70s framed (have been meaning to do for five years), new cooking Knife, or small portion of rent. Realize with a jolt that when Dave officially moves in (tomorrow), will pay half as much in rent every month. Confluence of financial, romantic, and dog good fortune makes feel rich. Later conversation with Dave erases imagined financial gains. In prior moment of delusion Declare to Dave that Am Too Old to rent U Haul (tell him long story about how last time got two parking tickets and in tense conversation with U Haul representative about dent, which was rusty and therefor clearly not made by self) and carry boxes down five flights of stairs. In so many words make it clear that many of the treasures being moved ought better to be deposited directly into Dumpster and that he will be blamed if I get Hot and sweaty. Say dramatically that will pay for movers myself. Dave not drawn into Says he will call movers and arrange. (Later have very clear and unpleasant picture of myself as tyrant in the Napoleonic mode.) Dave comes home. Has brought wine. Says he is glad that I insisted on movers. Casually mentions how much movers will cost. Choke on wine. Movers much, much more expensive than thought possible. Dave says very calmly, Don't Worry, I'll pay for it. Since very small child was taught that it is rude to ask How Much do you Make, but feel that time has come. What if Dave calm about money matters because a $10,000 balance on his credit card just doesn't bother him? He tells me that his salon started making money much sooner than he thought it would but that at any rate he'd had enough saved up to live on for a year. Asks, What are we having for dinner? The mind reels. Have never understood how anybody saves a dime, let alone enough to live on for a year. Ask (still feeling Rude) how much did you make when you worked for the big Salon. He says, Oh, about three times what I would have made if I'd finished my Ph.D. Now that financial gates have been opened, ask many, many questions about finances. At end of conversation see that have planned very badly indeed. Have no retirement accounts, no reserve fund (what is a reserve fund?), and (this is the most interesting detail gleaned from Dave) no monthly check from interest on Something my Grandparents set up. Ask, Like a trust fund? Up to this point Dave very forthcoming. At this question very nonspecific. Mumbles Yes, Sort of like a trust fund. Through no fault of my own, conversation turns to dinner (simple Thursday dinner of bean tacos) and plan of attack for Move. But throughout conversation, dinner, and far into the middle of the night, have wild fantasies about how much money there is and how best to spend it.