Small change

I found two coins when sweeping up this morning: forty cents in total. Woohoo! (Yes, really — WOOHOO!)

Now I’m puzzling over the involuntary thrill that comes from finding money lying around. I mean, it’s just forty cents. What can forty cents buy me? I think a lollipop (though I haven’t actually ever bought one) costs more. And — when I’m being completely honest — I get just as much a thrill to find a five cent piece on the ground.

Occasionally I score big by finding a gold coin (in Australia, that’s $1 or $2), and I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot, even though the small change makes no difference to my spending habits or style of living. The thrill is illogical.

Does my delight stem from a repressed childhood desire when each coin was precious?

Or do I feel compensated (on a very miniscule scale) for my work when I am actually not earning any of my own dosh? (Sweep the rubbish up — earn forty cents. Wash the clothes for three months in a row — earn one dollar.)

Anyway, my mood is lighter, my work is lesser, and I’ll optimistically examine each dirt pile for more coins — whatever the amount. Bring on the vacuuming!