"My Day" by a Wallet Embracing a Dream
Prologue: To Be Born I was born from Italian cowhide. To be precise, I am a rather luxurious long wallet, crafted by the hands of an artisan in a leather workshop on the outskirts of Florence. From the moment I was born, I knew. My destiny was 'to hold'. But what I would hold was not my choice. The day I was sparkling in a department store display, a man in his 30s picked me up. "This looks good. It holds a lot of business cards." Just like that, I became Assistant Manager Kim's wallet. From that day, my day began. People say a wallet holds a person's life. They are right. I have held all of Kim's dreams and frustrations, his vanity and frugality, his love and breakups. Now, I am here to tell that story. The world of humans, as seen through the eyes of a wallet. It is, more often than not, absurd, sometimes sad, and occasionally beautiful.
(Episode 1) Commuting with the Monday Blues
"D-25 until payday, the cards scream again today."
At 7:30 AM, I woke up in the back pocket of Kim's pants. No, to be exact, I was awakened by his habitual fumbling. "Wallet... got it." This ritual, repeated every morning. He frets about losing me, yet he never truly takes proper care of me. The subway station turnstile. The debit card trembled and spoke. "Boss, please... just don't let it say 'insufficient funds' today." I sighed inwardly. 50,000 won. That’s the exact balance in his account. There are still 25 days left until payday. "Beep-" Thankfully, it went through. The debit card sighed in relief. But as we passed the convenience store, I tensed up. Kim always buys an Americano here, and it's 4,500 won every time. That’s 135,000 won a month. This guy's financial ruin begins with small habits like this. "This, I can't give up." Kim muttered and pulled out the credit card. The credit card spoke triumphantly. "My time has come again!" I sighed. These two, when will they ever make peace? The war of nerves between the debit card and the credit card continues today. When we arrived at the office, Kim tossed me into his desk drawer. In the darkness, I thought. Why am I so light? It's not because there's no money. It's because there are no dreams. A long time ago, Kim had stuck a Post-it note on me that said, "Saving money for travel." But that piece of paper, which fell off six months ago, is now gone. Lunchtime. While his colleagues pondered, "What should we eat?" Kim answered without a second's hesitation. "A convenience store lunchbox for me." I know the truth. What he really wants to eat is the 12,000-won pork cutlet set meal. But thinking of the limits on the cards inside me, he can't bring himself to say it. At 3:00 PM, a junior colleague collected money for a coffee run. Kim took me out and handed over two 1,000-won bills. The junior held out a card reader, "Hyung, can you use your card?" but Kim shook his head. "No, cash is easier." A lie. He's just scared of the card usage notification popping up. 'Insufficient Funds', 'Limit Exceeded'—I know those messages crush his pride. On the way home from work, Kim stopped in front of a bookstore. A book titled 'Habits to Get Rich' was on the bestseller shelf. He stared at the book for five minutes but ultimately didn't buy it. 16,800 won. With that money, he could have a more lavish lunch tomorrow. When he got home, Kim threw me onto the bed. I thought, another day survived. Debit card balance: 45,500 won. Credit card available limit: 730,000 won. And three crumpled 1,000-won bills inside me. This is the reality of an office worker in his 30s. Dreams are expensive, and reality is cheap.
My Thought! "We think we live to fill our wallets, but what’s truly important isn't what's inside the wallet, but what dreams we're dreaming when we open it. Poverty doesn't begin when the wallet is empty, but when the heart is."
(Episode 2) The Vanity of a Date Night
"In front of love, a wallet always bluffs."
Saturday, 7:00 PM. I was in Kim's jacket pocket, feeling his heartbeat. It was fast. The reason was singular. Today was his date with Sujin, the woman he’s been seeing for three months. "It'll be fine. 100,000 won should be enough, right?" Kim muttered. I scoffed internally. Enough? We both know that's a lie. The set menu at that trendy Gangnam pasta restaurant is 45,000 won per person, and the wine bar afterward is at least 15,000 won per glass. The restaurant entrance. Kim fumbled for me, touching the debit card. "Boss, I'm taking the day off. Leave it to Mr. Credit," was the debit card's wise judgment. I quietly pushed the credit card to the front slot. "Welcome. Reservation for Mr. Kim?" the staff's voice rang out. We were guided to our table. Sujin was already there. "Oppa, this place has such a great vibe!" Her eyes sparkled. Kim's hand gripped me tighter. I could feel the sweat. The menu was opened. Sujin, looking at the wine list, said, "Oppa, can we drink this?" She was pointing at a 120,000-won Chardonnay. Kim smiled and replied, "Of course. It's a special day." I whispered to the credit card. "Ready?" The credit card gave a solemn nod. As the meal progressed, I felt Kim's genuine feelings from within his suit. He was truly happy. The conversation with Sujin, the sound of her laughter, her eyes shining in the candlelight. In this moment, money wasn't the issue. But when the bill came, reality hit. "Your total is 236,000 won." Kim, feigning indifference, took me out and handed over the credit card. "Beep-" Approved. The credit card's remaining limit was now 494,000 won. Leaving the restaurant, Sujin said, "Oppa, I'm sorry. Did I order something too expensive?" Kim waved his hand. "Not at all. Let's go somewhere even nicer next time." I thought to myself, When will 'next time' be? 15 days until the card payment is due. The salary will come in just before that. Barely. We moved to a wine bar. Sujin asked cautiously, "Oppa, if it's too much, should we just go home?" But Kim shook his head. "No. Today's a special day, isn't it?" A special day. It was exactly their 100th day anniversary. Two glasses of wine. One side dish. 72,000 won. I was brought out again, presenting the credit card. The credit card spoke in a trembling voice. "Boss... I'm just..." "I know. Just hold on a little longer," I soothed it. After dropping Sujin home in a taxi, Kim took the subway alone. It was the last train. From his pocket, I heard his sigh. Deep and heavy. Arriving home, he placed me on the desk and muttered, "Still... I was happy." There was a smile on his face. It was a 308,000-won smile, but to him, it was worth a million dollars. I thought, love is such an expensive emotion. But whether it's worth the price, I'm still not sure. The only thing I know for sure is that Kim's credit card limit is now down to 422,000 won.
My Thought! "True love doesn't make you open your wallet; it makes you open your heart. When we spend money on someone, what matters isn't the amount, but the sincerity of the heart. However, if that sincerity is mortgaging your future, you need to stop and think."
(Episode 3) The Day the Credit Card Bill Arrived
"D-3, only the wind blows through the account."
Wednesday, 10:32 AM. I felt a vibration from Kim's desk drawer. His smartphone. "[3-Star Card] This month's payment: 1,847,000 won, scheduled for withdrawal on Oct. 25th." Kim's hands stopped. On the keyboard. I felt the terror transmitted through his pocket. 1,847,000 won. His monthly salary is 2,350,000 won after taxes. Subtract 500,000 for rent and 200,000 for utilities and insurance, and he's left with 1,830,000 won. The math didn't add up. At lunchtime, Kim refused his colleagues' invitation to eat. "I brought something from home." It was a lie. I knew. Inside his bag were two 3,900-won kimbap triangles from the convenience store. At 2:00 PM, Kim sat in a bathroom stall and took me out. He looked at each credit card, muttering. "This one was for chicken delivery last month... this one was for a movie with Sujin... what was this one?" I knew. That card was used at 2 AM, calling a designated driver instead of taking a taxi while drunk. 45,000 won. A taxi would have been 15,000. The credit cards whispered among themselves. "We're in real trouble this time." "Boss, it's not our fault. We just did what we were told." "Can't he just pay the minimum amount?" I scolded them. "Shut up. If he pays the minimum 184,700 won, the rest rolls over to next month with 18.6% interest. You don't know how terrifying that is." At 7:00 PM, after work, Kim opened his banking app. Current balance: 327,400 won. Three days until payday. He has to survive these three days on this money. And when the salary comes in, he pays the card bill, pays the rent, and becomes broke all over again. Kim called his mother. "Mom, I... need a little money..." But he hung up just before pressing the call button. I heard his pride shattering. A man in his mid-30s, asking his mother for money. That was the one thing he didn't want to do. Instead, he opened a second-hand marketplace app. He pulled out a pair of sneakers from under his bed that he had never worn. Shoes he'd impulsively bought for 230,000 won two years ago during a sale. "Selling for 120,000 won. Like new." At 11:00 PM, the sneakers sold. The buyer would pick them up tomorrow. 120,000 won. With this, he can survive three more days. No, he must survive. Lying on Kim's bedside table, I thought. Cards are terrifying things. They let you buy immediate happiness easily, but the price is paid by the future. And the future always arrives sooner than expected. Kim opened a budgeting app on his phone. The same one he installed last year and deleted after three days. He re-installed it and, this time, made a sincere vow. "Let's really do this right this time." I rooted for him internally. 'Yes, you can do it. Let's do this together.' But at the same time, I knew. This was his twelfth vow. And the previous eleven had all ended in failure.
My Thought! "Using future money is to enslave your future self. A card is just a tool; you must be the master. The moment the card starts to control you, you lose your freedom. A truly rich person is not one who has much, but one who needs little."
(Episode 4) Grandma's 50,000 Won
"Why the lightest money is the heaviest."
Sunday afternoon. I was rattling inside Kim's bag. We were on a bus, heading to his hometown. The day he visits his grandmother, once a month. "Daeri-ya, have you eaten?" Grandma's first words were always the same. "Yes, Grandma. I'm eating well." Kim's answer was also always the same. It was a lie. In a corner of Grandma's room, there was a small altar. A photo of his late grandfather was placed there, with a glass of water that Grandma offered every morning. "They say Grandpa is watching over us. You and me," Grandma said with a smile. After lunch, Grandma brought something from the kitchen. An old envelope. "Take this." Kim waved his hands. "Grandma, I'm fine. I make good money." Another lie. "Aigoo, you think I don't know? I heard from your mom that you've been eating convenience store lunchboxes." Grandma's eyes grew moist. "This is all Grandma can give you." Inside the envelope was a single 50,000-won bill. Worn and crumpled, it seemed she had prepared it long ago. Kim refused until the end, but Grandma forced it into his hand. On the bus back, Kim took me out and put that 50,000-won bill inside. Next to the credit cards. Next to the debit card. And among the pile of receipts. But this 50,000 won was different. It had weight. "I can't spend this," Kim muttered. I asked, "Why?" "Because... this isn't just money." That night, Kim was hungry again. The fridge was empty, and the convenience store was a 5-minute walk away. His hand reached for me. And he touched that 50,000-won bill. But he didn't take it out. "Let's just make some ramen." A packet of ramen found in the back of the cupboard. It was a month past its expiration date, but it was edible. Kim settled his dinner with that. A week passed. I remained in Kim's pocket, and the 50,000-won bill remained inside me. When passing the convenience store, when drinking with colleagues, when opening the delivery app at dawn. He could have spent that money. But he didn't. "Boss, why don't you spend that money?" the credit card asked. "It's much easier to use than us. No interest, no due date." I replied, "That, my friend, isn't just 50,000 won. It's ten years of Grandma's worry, twenty years of her love, and a lifetime of her prayers. You can't spend money like that easily." A month passed. The 50,000 won was still inside me. It was now neatly smoothed out, stored in the innermost slot. Kim would occasionally take it out just to look at it. Not to spend, just to look. "Grandma, I still have it," Kim said over the phone. "I got a little bonus this month. I'll buy you something delicious next time I visit." That night, I asked the 50,000-won bill, "Don't you want to be spent?" The 50,000-won bill replied, "No. I've already been spent. Every day, in this person's heart. That's enough for me."
My Thought! "The most valuable money isn't measured by its face value. Who, why, and how that money was given determines its true worth. If we have money we want to protect, it's probably because it holds something more than just monetary value. Sometimes, love is delivered with the weight of 50,000 won."
(Episode 5) The Miracle of Small Savings
"The revolt of the 1,000-won bills begins."
Three months later. I felt a change. A subtle but definite change. Kim's habits were changing. He started using the office coffee machine to save the 4,500-won coffee expense, and he started taking the bus instead of taxis. And the most important change—he started putting change back into me. "Let's save even if it's just 1,000 won." This was Kim's new mantra. If he bought a 6,500-won item at the convenience store and paid with a 10,000-won bill, he'd get 3,500 won in change. In the past, he would have bought gum or candy with that. But now, he put that money straight into me. At first, it was just a few coins. 500 won, 100 won, 50 won. My coin pouch began to get a little heavier. Then, a week later, a 1,000-won bill came in. "Welcome, friend," I greeted that 1,000 won. The credit card scoffed. "A thousand won? What's the big deal? I can spend 100,000 won at once." I didn't respond. I just quietly and carefully stored that 1,000-won bill. A month passed. My coin pouch was now bulging. Fifteen 1,000-won bills had also gathered. The total was 32,400 won. Kim took me out, counted the coins, and said to himself, "It's... actually adding up." That day, Kim went to the bank and deposited those coins. His bank balance increased by 32,400 won. It wasn't a huge amount. But there was a strange sense of pride on Kim's face. "I saved this. I didn't swipe a card." "Boss, I get it now," the debit card said. "If you disrespect small money, you can't save big money." The credit card was still indifferent, but it didn't boast like before. Two months later, 65,000 won had collected inside me. Kim was saving 1,000 won from his lunch money every day. Instead of an 8,000-won meal, he chose a 7,000-won one and put that 1,000 won into me. On days he saved 4,500 won on coffee, he saved 5,000 won. "What are you going to do with this money?" the debit card asked. Kim took out his smartphone and showed us the screen. A round-trip ticket to Jeju Island. 89,000 won. "I'm buying this." We were all surprised. It had been two years since Kim had a concrete goal. "I'm going with Sujin. But this time, I'm not using a card. I'm going only with the money I saved." From that day, the meaning of saving changed. It wasn't just about collecting money. It was about collecting a dream. Each 1,000-won bill became the sea of Jeju, and each 500-won coin became the coffee they would drink there. At the three-month mark, I finally held 97,600 won. He was almost at his goal. That day, after working overtime, Kim passed the convenience store. He was hungry. He wanted to buy a cup of ramen. His hand reached for me. "No." Kim said to himself. "Just a little longer." He went home and made kimchi fried rice with the leftover kimchi in his fridge. And he put the 2,500 won he saved into me. "Yes! It's over 100,000 won!" 100,100 won, to be exact. Kim pumped his fist. I felt his joy. This wasn't just 100,000 won. It was three months of patience, a victory over hundreds of temptations. That night, Kim called Sujin. "I bought the tickets to Jeju. Should we go next month?" Sujin's happy voice came through the phone. "Really? Oppa, are you okay with the money?" "Yeah, this time, I prepared properly." After booking the tickets, my balance was 11,100 won. It was back to the beginning. But it was different this time. Kim knew. Even small money can become a dream when saved. "Boss, what's our next goal?" a 1,000-won bill asked. Kim smiled and patted me. "Next... 1,000,000 won. For an emergency fund." The credit card sighed. "Ah, my era is over." I consoled him. "You're still needed. It's just that now, you're a tool, not the master. We are all just tools for Kim." That night, lying on Kim's desk, I thought. Just three months ago, I was empty. A shabby wallet, drowning in card debt, relying on Grandma's 50,000 won. But now, I was different. I had become a wallet embracing a dream.
My Thought! "Miracles don't come from big money; they come from the habit of saving small money. A person who ignores 1,000 won cannot protect 1,000,000 won. The first step to becoming truly rich isn't 'not spending,' but 'spending meaningfully.' What dream is your wallet embracing right now?"
Epilogue: What the Wallet Learned
Six months have passed. I am still in Kim's pocket. But I am different from before. I am no longer ashamed of being light. I am not proud of being heavy. I now know that a wallet's value is not its weight. Kim and Sujin went to Jeju. They stayed in a guesthouse instead of an expensive hotel and took the bus instead of a rental car. But they looked happier than ever. Because that trip was made not of debt, but of sweat. The credit card's available limit has now recovered to 1,500,000 won. It is no longer swiped recklessly. Now, whenever Kim uses a card, he thinks twice. "Is this really necessary?" "Will the me of next month regret this decision?" The debit card is now proud. "Boss, I'm getting out a lot more often these days, right?" That's right. The debit card is used more often than the credit card. He has developed the habit of spending within his means. Grandma's 50,000 won is still in my innermost slot. It hasn't been spent, but it is used every day. Whenever Kim is struggling, he looks at that 50,000 won and finds strength. "Right, Grandma is watching over me." And in his savings, 350,000 won has now gathered. It's still a long way from 1,000,000 won, but Kim doesn't give up. 1,000 won, 2,000 won, he saves a little every day. One day, a homeless person was begging on the street. In the past, Kim would have pretended not to see. He would have thought, 'I don't have enough for myself.' But that day was different. Kim took me out and pulled out a 1,000-won bill. And he put it in the person's cup. "Get yourself something warm." The person bowed their head in thanks. I realized. A wallet doesn't just receive. It becomes truly abundant when it can give. Tonight, Kim placed me on his desk and said, "Thanks, wallet. You taught me a lot." I thought, 'No, Kim. You taught me. The meaning of money, the power of discipline, and the method of saving a dream.' I am a wallet embracing a dream. Sometimes I'm empty, sometimes I'm full. But that's not what's important. What's important is the heart of the person who opens me. What is your wallet embracing right now? Is it money, or is it a dream? Oh, and one more thing. Kim got his paycheck today. And the very first thing he did was put 50,000 won into his savings. "Next goal, start!" Our story continues. One 1,000-won bill at a time, one day at a time, one piece of a dream at a time.
My Thought! "A wallet is a mirror. If you look into your wallet, you see your values, your dreams, your life. If you want to be rich, first ask, 'Why do I want to be rich?' Wealth without purpose is just like a heavy wallet with no meaning. The wallet that is light but full of dreams. That is true abundance."
I send my thanks to the wallet in all of our pockets. To that small friend who has silently watched over you, how about saying "thank you" just once today? And remember. A truly rich person is not one who has much, but one who is grateful for what they have. May your wallet be full of dreams.
