The Change Panic

I have change counting phobia.

There I said it.

How old are you when you learn to count money again?  Six…seven?

Maybe I need to go back to elementary school? I'd probably still fit behind one of the desks...

I distinctly remember learning to count money in maybe first of second grade.  We had these little paper coins and dollars that we would use to practice with.  It frustrated me then, and I’m still frustrated now.

Don’t get it twisted, I know how to count money.  That’s not the issue.  The issue is the sheer panic I fall under while doing so.

Sometimes I wish I had one of these.

I went shopping the other day, and when it came time to pay, the change called for 67 cents.  Easy right?  Normally, but there were at least four impatient people behind me.  I started frantically searching through my wallet, muttering under my breath, “I swear I had a quarter in here somewhere.”  The sales girl, who was probably about seventeen, was chomping on her gum, staring at me in disbelief.  I pulled out some change, dropping multiple coins on the floor, and that’s when I really started to panic.  A nice southern gentleman behind me picked it up, handing it to me, and giving me an “I feel sorry for you” smile.  As I retrieved the coins, I immediately started counting, but I kept getting stuck from the pressure. “Ten, fifteen, twenty,” I mentally counted, “Wait was that twenty cents I just counted?  What did I just count?!”  I stared down at the coins in my hand, the hysteria blurring my vision, and started over.  Getting frustrated, I handed her my entire handful of change, and let out a deep sigh of relief that it was off my hands.  She looked at me like, “Are you crazy?” And proceeded to count it out for me, pushing the remaining change back over to me across the counter when she was done.  I weakly smiled, embarrassed that I’m a 29-year-old woman who has change counting panic.

I’ve got to be honest, I think I totally deserve a big fat “Who does that, like seriously who does that” label?

After all, I’ve earned it.

My only question is:  Am I alone in this?  Or do other people have the “change panic” too?

~The End.

Photos by phillysportsphan.blogspot.com, and pinterest.  

Would You Rather…

Be stranded on a desert island with your 4 worst enemies?

B*tches might make your life miserable, but then again, maybe you'd start to like each other after awhile...

Or be completely alone?

And lose your marbles like this fool...

Would you rather be alone and rich?

Leona Helmsley was so rich, but died so alone that she left her fortune to her dog. No, I'm not kidding.

Or be loved and poor?

Are you really poor if you're rich in love?

Would you rather live a long life but never find true love?

Can you ever truly be fulfilled if never loved in return?

Or live a short life but experience passionate true love for 6 months?

Can anything really match the feeling of being loved? Even if it's in exchange for a shorter life?

Would you rather be able to fly?

Just think, you could go anywhere in the world you've ever wanted to go...

Or be able to read minds…

And you could know what everyone is really thinking...but maybe your feelings might get hurt if you could...

So…

Tell me…

What would you rather?