During my three years at Elizabethtown College, I’ve encountered a variety of peculiar types of people. I’ve met the shy poopers, who barely do their business anywhere but the anonymity of the BSC bathrooms. I’ve chanced upon big fishes, who are so used to being a big deal in their tiny hometowns that they still think you’ll give them a gold star whenever they say something even remotely competent. From time to time, I’ve even met a real-live douche bag.

I’ve met and understood them all. But there’s one type of person I’ll never understand—the jay bucks hoarder. You know the type: that bizarre sort of person with enough self-restraint to still have Jay bucks left over toward the end of the semester. The type that’s actually concerned they might not spend it all by the end of the year.  If I’m describing you right now, I just have one question for you:

What is wrong with you?

You can outgrow the need to hold on to your Jay bucks, like you outgrew your silly haircut from freshman year. I promise.

Let me introduce you to a beautiful philosophy on life and Jay bucks spending that I employ: every day is fraught with challenges and triumphs; when you’re having a bad day, buy a tuna melt or some sushi to console yourself. If you’re having a good day, buy a tuna melt or some sushi to reward yourself. You might argue that this method encourages impulse buying and gluttonous behavior. Those are ugly words. Let’s rename them “spontaneity” and “self-indulgence.”

Don’t think about what you can’t have when you walk through the Jay’s. Don’t dwell on the fact that no matter how many Jay bucks you have, you’ll never be able to buy the sushi chef’s cute baby to take home with you.

Think about what you can have. The first way to spend those Jay bucks is to learn how to do it. Spending is a frame of mind. So, every time you pass the Jay’s, ask yourself:

1. What am I craving?

2. What SHOULD I be craving? Not hungry? You’ll get hungry at some point, and if you don’t eat, you’ll die. Better buy some food.

3. Who’s working in the Jay’s that I could talk to right now? Friendship is magic.

4. How am I feeling? Every emotion needs a certain kind of food. For instance, no matter what mood I’m in, angry or content or confused, I want those sour cherry gummies from the bulk candy section. Others need comfort food when they’re upset or fruit when they’re feelin’ good.

5. Have I worked out today? The answer is always: who cares?

If this five-step process doesn’t work for you, get selfless with it. What can you buy for your friends? More importantly, what can you buy for me?

I hope these tips help you as you overcome the peculiarities of being a Jay bucks hoarder. The longer your reign of frugality lasts, the longer people will not understand you. Do yourself a favor and glut.