I’m re-collecting lucky pennies…re-obsessing? It got to the point of crazy when I found myself trying to pick one up that had dried into the tar of a paved street.
An older man stopped in his tracks because I looked that psychotic. He gave me that WTF-are-you-serious? stare. I had to walk away, but promised myself I would come back with a tool and dig it out.
Five minutes later, on the train, I switched seats with a family so they could sit together, and while across from them, I noticed a quarter. I think the mom thought I was being creepy, but I had the urgency to tell her son to pick up the found money.
A quarter still has some value…well, maybe an “added” value, but one nonetheless. Unlike a lucky penny, which is purely a charm thing, a quarter can still get you something. Store owners will let you get away with being short some change…but not by 25¢. And “found money” is always good money. I pointed to the daughter and told her to pick it up and keep it, which she did.
Yesterday, in the middle of some dirty street in NYC (aren’t they all), I saw a shiny penny. This penny would decide if I should go to Beijing, if I should move to CT or work in central Jersey. I was puking at all of the offers—here, when I was already way into the process of creating my dream job. This beautiful penny would assure my happiness, would inform me of the right direction, of my future.