by Brian Kist
It's that moment of clarity that helps bridge the gap between the freedom of a worry-free weekend and the soul-suffocating drudge of the weekday. I have been told that I am a bad driver... by the insurance company, which is a harsh way to learn. In light of this expensive news, I budget by eating cheapo, salty noodles and avoiding most external social events that demand some cash. But I broke a guitar string this weekend and even those eight bucks for a new set seems like a mocking expense. Also, I don't know how to tell that certain girl that I don't want to "hang out" with her or pretend her work stories are interesting or pay for the text messages she sends me. Despite it all, those folks that know me the best don't care if I ditch them for a night in and for that I am the luckiest penny-pincher this side of Scrooge McDuck (with whom I am all too often compared).
Brian Kist is a staff writer for a trade magazine in Missouri. He is probably too sarcastic for his own good. He also does occasional write-ups and promotion for his friends' band.