My grandmother used to keep her money in glass jars hidden around the house. One for groceries, another for emergencies, a third for what she called "Joy Money"—the kind you spend on things that make you smile for no practical reason. She'd count each jar every Sunday, making sure she wasn't spending more than what came in. Beta, she'd tell me while sorting coins, the moment you start borrowing from tomorrow to pay for today's mistakes, you're already poor. I thought about those jars recently while watching two friends navigate what …
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