WTF happened to the practice of counting change? Before: you went to the store, the total was $7.25, you gave the clerk $10, and she said, “75 gives you 8, and 9 and 10.” Now: total is $7.25, you give the clerk $10, and If you’re lucky, she says, “2.75 is your change.” More often than not, she simply shoves a bunch of change at you.

This irks me on more than one level. First, customer service. It’s not particularly friendly to jam a fistful of money at someone. Second, it makes me feel like a miser who’s slowing down the line when I purposely stop to count my change and make sure I received the correct amount. (Note: it’s not always the correct amount. I tell them either way.)

I’ve noticed on the rare occasion that someone counts out change in old-school style, they are almost always over the age of 40. Seriously, pay attention and report back to me. Do you get your change counted out? Is the person 40+?


The first time I taught, I was a young-looking 28 or 29. Many of my students were in their 20s. I looked like one of them. I had to convince them I was the teacher. Last Tuesday when I walked in to my classroom at the local junior college, I had to bite my tongue not to blurt out, “I am not your teacher.”

I’m a student again, though I don’t have a back-to-school photo to prove it. While I’ve taken workshops for fun and attended seminars for work, I haven’t been an official student since the 90s. My classmates weren’t even born yet.

Why am I back in school? I’ve always loved learning, but I never took an economics class. The older I get, the more that feels like a gaping hole in my education. In high school, it’s a common subject, but it wasn’t taught in mine. In college I was nearly killed by pre-calculus, so anything that involved graphs or required calculators terrified me. I’ve since figured out a lot of economics from self-study and reading newspapers but felt I’d learned all I could on my own.

Now I have Macroeconomics two days a week — complete with textbooks, a scientific calculator, quizzes, and tests. Here’s to hoping it’s enlightening. Now, I’ve got to go read about the GDP.

“Companion” stems from the Latin words com + panis with and bread – that is, the person you break bread with. I love that, not only because eating together is a joyful part of friendship but also because I am a huge word nerd.

When I learned Count is from the Latin word for companion, I knew I had the perfect title for the voice in my head that tells me to eat when I shouldn’t. I’ve mentioned before that the voice is as tempting as a Latin lover. Thus, the Count. Count Who?

Count Adipose. Put less eloquently (less Latin-ly?), “The Earl of Fatty.”

I hate envy admire the people who don’t have internal, infernal struggles with food – those people who naturally stop before they’re full, who can bypass chocolate altogether or be satisfied with one small piece. I am not one of those people. When I’m feeling good and things are going well, I can pretend to be. I can act like one of those people, but it doesn’t come naturally or easily.

With continued pretending, perhaps healthy eating habits will become habitual and The Count will win only on the most special occasions. Habitual is not the same as natural, but I’ll take it.