I’m fvcking obsessed with money. This probably comes as no surprise to most of you, especially those who knew me back in primary school, when I’ll offer to help people do their homework for a fee (I believe it was 20 cents per assignment) and hover around my friends during recess like a vulture, just so I can slurp up the remains of their laksa I so adored but couldn’t afford. (Yeah, I know that was darn gross, but hey, I was dirt poor then.)

For better or worse, my attachment to money eased once I graduated to secondary school, and I more or less lost my grip on it when I went on to JC. Money was spent frivolously on lavish food in fancy restaurants, branded clothes and other dandy accoutrements, and frequent trips on “Bus 240”. What happened to the days when a few slurps of laksa gravy gave me more satisfaction than the cheese cake at the Hilton’s?

This extravagance was further perpetuated when I went into army, where time in the civilian (and civilized) world was precious, and I made it a point to enjoy those precious moments of reprieve from all the ”Yes Sir, Yes Sergeant!” – Money was to be no obstacle. Besides, I reasoned that the stipend the army provided was too meager for any meaningful saving. So, even though I was getting more money and less time to spend them than I did during my scholastic years, I still managed to spend most if not all of my pay every month.

My profligacy continued until I was posted to Brunei. Paradoxically, as my pay tripled, I started being more parsimonious with my money. I’d look for the cheapest shampoo, the cheapest toothpaste, the cheapest load of bread etc. right down to the lowest cent/ml or cent/g (My apologies for not using SI units). Even when I go out on my off days to surf the web in the Internet cafes, I’d make sure my total expenditure would not exceed the amount I’d have spent if I’d opted to surf the web back in camp for the same number of hours. Gone were the days when restaurant food was a staple whenever I’d time away from army; now, anything that has a price tag of more than $3 would be avoided like the plague. To keep an even tighter rein on my cash flow, every pecuniary transaction I make now has to be recorded – at least in some approximation – in my accounts file. Every dollar I wasted now was more than a dollar, it’d be the amount compounded at 10% annually over 20 years.

Recently, for reasons I shan’t disclose, I treated my buddy to $22 worth of pizza. Back in Singapore, it wouldn’t really mean much to me, but this was different. That sudden extravagance made me feel so much freer, like I was finally released from the financial straitjacket that I’d worn myself. That relief proved to be ephemeral. Soon after, I began buckling the straps of my straitjacket unconsciously, as I thought about how I was going to make back that $22. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why am I such a bloody miser now? It’s not like I’ve any monetary urgencies to attend to. My family isn’t poor. My tertiary education is going to be free. So what the fvck am I worrying about?!

Maybe what they say is true: The rich like to hoard money. Not that I’m rich or what, but my surge in income did elevate me to an unprecedented position of wealth. And I suddenly had this fear of losing it in the way most lottery winners often do. Perhaps I’ve been brainwashed by the numerous investment books I’ve read, or maybe it’s because I’m not fond of Brunei, and loathe contributing any more than necessary to its stuttering economy. Then again, it could be the constant barrage of articles in the Straits Times (Yes, I do get it here, albeit half a day late) advocating early saving plans for retirement, and prophesizing financial ruin in your later years if you don’t have such plans.

Whatever reasons I concoct to defend myself, the fact still remains: I’m a Scrooge. And I really detest it.

I should let loose – not just my purse strings, but my mind too. It’s time I readjusted my “hedonism-pragmatism” equilibrium.