I’m currently finishing my fourth and final undergraduate year, majoring in Finance, specifically Corporate Finance and Investment Banking. One would assume, “Hey, this rad dude is doing business, so he must be good with handling money.” One would be severely wrong. I suck with money. No, suck doesn’t correctly describe it. Saving money and I are as relatable as Two and a Half Men and comedy. I will probably leave the University of Texas at Austin with over $30,000 in student loans, and possibly $5,000 in credit card debt. I know what you’re thinking, “Hey, that is the average debt for a college graduate.” Maybe, but mine was and still is preventable. You see I have a sickness. One I have been battling with since I entered my freshman year. My first year in college, I purchased a brand new iMac. Oh it was beautiful, fully equipped with a newly released leopard OSX, and my first encounter with Apple, which soon blossomed to a beautiful and expensive relationship. As the college years passed, more material possessions were added to my collection. A brand new iPhone came next. Followed by a plasma TV, a SlingBox, clothes (living near San Marcos is like an alcoholic living above a bar), and many items that I just did not need. Safe to say I was digging myself into a hole in which I cannot escape.
When I made the decision, and was ultimately accepted to study abroad in Paris this semester (Fall 2010), I knew I had to fight my disease from bankrupting me at the young age of 21. I made up my mind, I had to ration and budget my funds correctly so I can have a great time, and still have some savings when I return to the US. That lasted as long as Eric Crouch’s professional football career. Being a shopaholic and visiting Paris is the complete opposite of rehab. I just waltzed into a field of narcotic apparel and intoxicating accessories.
“No worries,” I said to myself. “I have an X amount in my savings and I won’t need to even touch it.” I have exactly two months left in Europe, and I have already transferred my savings funds into my ‘I can’t control myself’ checking account. Not to mention beginning on Thursday I will embark on a full pledged trip around Europe for ten days. Why am I in such a pickle? Maybe it’s my infatuation of brands such as Burberry, which really doesn’t do anything more than a departmental brand except for that fancy name. And maybe those cool patterns. Maybe it has something to do with my mind telling me, “I’m in Europe, its acceptable to spend more here for something I can probably get at a 15% discount in the States.” Or maybe it’s just a viral infection deep within my mind where I have no control. Either way, I need to change what’s going on.
In a matter of months, I will return home and back to the responsibilities I left behind. Credit card bills, phone bills, rent, living expenses all will come back to me, and I will most likely have eaten up all my funds, including my savings, on this Euro, stress-filled, vacation. Now, I’ve been blessed with a full-time position waiting for me once I graduate. But how will I survive until then? Not to mention my inevitable return to Europe next summer after graduation, something must be done to save me from this infection that causes fascination with the loss of money and gain of nothing really.
Paris has a higher cost of living than any place I have known. I will travel purely through an obligation whenever you visit Europe for the first time, and I will probably go to Champs Elysees and Gallerie Lafayette a few more times. But don’t blame me. I am sick. Shopping is a disease.
*Disclaimer: Please don’t be offended with the fact I called shopping a disease. I know it really isn’t. That is all.
*Disclaimer: Please don’t be offended with the fact I called shopping a disease. I know it really isn’t. That is all.
Imaginarium of Mr. Berani 