Can't Buy Me...?

I've always claimed to be a very non-materialistic person: if I ever struck it rich, I would travel, solve world hunger, other noble causes of the like. Big houses, fancy cars, and all that money can buy never interested me much. It's always hit me as tacky and fake. Ick. I'd be much happier sleeping peacefully at night, not owing a person in the world one dime, than having the neighbors think I'm cool-or whatever people who are into that kind of stuff want out of the whole mess.

Ah, but now, as a poor college student, I realize how much money really can buy. Its lack is painfully apparent in broken computers that need fixing, bare cupboards that need replenishing, bare walls that wish for decorating, and hair that longs for chopping.
I'm as convinced as ever that money can't buy happiness...
but I feel like it sure helps.

I still wouldn't ever want the maintenence of a huge house or the pressure of a slick sports car, but I've found myself wondering lately what it would be like to feel the ease that comes from being able to throw money away: you never have to plan your trips to get the cheapest airfare, worry about inconveniencing some friend-of-a-friend so you can skip out on hotel costs, compare prices, clip coupons, shop second-hand, wait for your savings to add up enough to buy whatever new thing you want, keep your job....the list goes ON.

I'm never going to sacrifice things I want for money-but if I do happen to win the lottery without playing, I guess I won't complain.