I made $824 last week in cash. That�s not a lot of money, but it�s a very satisfying amount to count over and over and over again. I love money�not the status of it (obviously: I sleep on a mattress I inherited from a roommate that sits atop a bed frame I inherited from a neighbor), not the materialism behind it (while I do have a vague inclination for fashion), not the security it provides (although that is a healthy bonus), but the process of it, and the science behind it, and the lifestyle it provides. I spent my entire holiday working at each of my dead-end jobs, just because I�d rather sit at home counting the hundreds and fifties and twenties and tens and fives and ones than spend time with the people who love me. I walked out on the dinner party I was invited to in order to have more to count, and also so I could have twenty guys tell me how beautiful I am for hours on end. Who needs therapy when you can get paid to have strangers bolster your self-esteem?