There was a debate circulating late last year, concerning two slices of bread, slathered in bright green deliciousness and topped with just a touch of feta. Never before has such a breakfast dish caused such a controversy, nor sparked a bigger generational divide. Before I go any further, I’ll be transparent. I’m 26, nearly 27 in fact. I’ve probably followed an indefinite tangent that I loosely define as life, much to the disdain of my parents. In that I’m never really knowing, or remotely worrying about what comes next. But the one thing I know for sure is… I do not want to buy a house.
[x_pullquote type=”left”]If I quit the smashed avo, I’d probably save bout $50 a week, and that’s definitely not including my coffee budget. [/x_pullquote]Regardless of the current housing crisis and the financial crisis keeping us out of the housing market, it’s just not on my radar. If I was sitting on the equivalent of a house deposit, the last place you’d find me, would be on the dotted line signing my life away. Don’t get me wrong, I completely support those who choose to chase the ‘Australian Dream’ and secure a castle all of their own but… It’s just not for me. Despite the fact that I’m awful with money, I just don’t particularly care for being locked down. That, and I care for the share house environment way to much. Peter Pan syndrome anyone?
But it’s actually more than that. I’m not an irresponsible person, I work hard, very hard in fact, never shying away from the time and effort needed to make sure I’m financially able to put one foot in front of the other. Those around me are often the first to comment that perhaps if my regular donations to the kind folks at Melbourne Bitter and my continual support of the Avocados Farmers Australia Union took a back seat, I might be in a different financial position and perhaps experience a change of life/change of heart. Perhaps I’d even have some sort of tangible savings. But in the words of Wil Wagner, “You can’t love anything before and after 9-5, the only thing you cannot buy is time”.
Tracking along with the current way I choose to live my life, if I quit the smashed avo, I’d probably save bout $50 a week, and that’s definitely not including my coffee budget. As most people like to tell me, that adds up. Slowly yet surely, my dividends are being (literally) eaten away. But what about the subconscious rewards I receive from this particular interaction. What about the added bonuses that I really can’t quantify, for a mere $50 a week?
[x_pullquote type=”right”]In the words of Wil Wagner, “You can’t love anything before and after 9-5, the only thing you cannot buy is time”.[/x_pullquote]Take this morning for example. I arrived at Bank Corner at about 6:25am, bleary eyed and in desperate need of coffee and… smashed avo. But what I also experienced during this exchange was someone greeting me with a smile. Someone wishing me good luck with my assignment that I’d dragged myself out of bed at 5:00am for. Someone hoping that I was in for a good day. Money, or a mortgage, cannot buy me that.
I’m a regular at many places, Bank Corner is one, Welsh Blacks is another. Yes, I’m a customer, and yes, one could argue that these people are PAID to be nice to me, and even quite possibly they are being nice to me to pay their own mortgage but… I frequent these places as often as I do because they are both places where I feel welcome. Places where I interact with members of the community, and where I get the opportunity to fill up my ever emptying social cup, as well as my takeaway one. Any one of the baristas at Welsh have an uncanny ability to communicate with me pre caffeine. That’s no small feat. And I’m so grateful for these interactions.
So when I look back on the smashed avo debate, if that’s what it really comes down to, I’m happy to give up the mortgage to engage with my community. So when you question my smashed avo habits, think about the underlying principles of my engagements. And take the time to treat yourself to something more, than just patriarchy on a plate.