This past summer, I blew close to $750 on clothing, which would have been more had my savings account been filled with the sufficient funds at that time. Luckily the bank I worked at paid its employees well, so heavy spending was something I could afford.

But making money is one thing and managing it is another.

And though I helped other people with their own savings, my checking account found itself, more often than not, practically empty.

Upon reading a letter from the bank about my recent shopping spree, my father rolled back in his chair.

And then he went on a whole spiel about money; I nodded and rolled my eyes childishly, as was custom whenever he lectured me about, well, anything.

To justify the shopping spree, I argued it was for school and therefore necessary (yeah, it sounds a little pathetic).

He said I’d never be able to save a dollar and that I needed to change.

I swore, mostly to spite him, from that moment on not a single dime would be wasted on inessential things, like excessive amounts of clothing.

And this past summer, what started off as a way to prove my father wrong ended up changing the way I handle money.

Every paycheck I made was stored away in the bank. All seemed well, but I still browsed through Amazon and stores at the mall, looking for things to one-day purchase. I figured it would be okay to save some money and then waste the rest of it carelessly.

I sadly considered buying a stereo for a car without owning one, practically wasting the money I painstakingly saved in the first month.

That was my rock bottom.

Something needed to be done before I ended up with a lifetime supply of toilet paper or multiple copies of “50 Shades of Grey”

Yes, you’re probably thinking: ‘what a nut job! Who throws their money away so carelessly?’

In a stagnant economy with limited job security, one would most likely save as much money as possible, but it can hard when you have no management skills.

At this point in time, the only thing keeping me from squandering away my entire savings is fear of poverty, fear of a future with no job.

I have recurring nightmares of a 30-something-year-old me living in a box—or worse, my parents’ basement—sobbing underneath a pillow because none of my future goals panned out. Scary? Yes.

And to top that, the field I’m going into, journalism, is currently undergoing some major changes. Professors tell me to be flexible and that I can’t bank on getting some stellar job. Niche jobs are hard to come by when employers ask for more than a college degree.

Imagine going into a job interview, the employer lists the requirements for the position and you sit there puzzled because you realize you’re not qualified.

And friends and family’s constant remarks about my choice in career don’t comfort me at all.

“Change majors! There are no jobs!” That’s what I usually hear.

Heck, even my doctor worries for me.

On my last physical, she suggested becoming a computer engineer or something else that might ensure financial stability, especially because she knows how I am with money (I think my mother shares too much with our doctor).

So, since the incident with the stereo, I cut my debit card and credit card up and saved more than ever this past summer.

And it feels good to know I have some money stored in the bank.

But every now and then I relapse and my friends have to pry my wallet from me.

Jaime Lopez is a sophomore journalism major and can be reached at 581-2812 or denopinions@gmail.com.