The Psychology of Money
"I'm the owner of this store, and I'm sorry, but miss—this book has far too many water stains on the cover. You'll have to purchase it. If you don't intend to buy it, I'd appreciate it if you left our bookstore."
The owner politely pointed toward the entrance and continued.
"To be honest, I've been watching you for a while now, and this isn't the first or second time. You come in, damage the books every single time, and never buy a thing. This time you've gone too far."
"What? I'm a customer here! How can you treat a customer like this?!"
She shot up from her seat and shouted. The owner looked somewhat awkward. That was when I stepped in.
"People like you aren't usually called customers. We call them public nuisances—problem customers."
"What? This guy..."
She started to charge at me as if to argue, but suddenly stopped cold.
She had noticed the people around her looking at her with clear disapproval. Some were even pointing their phones this way, as if recording videos.
These days short videos of entitled people and problem customers were all the rage. Get caught on one of those, and you could end up pointed at by the entire nation.
"Anything else left to say? If not, please leave now, problem customer."
"Tsk! What a jinx."
The woman's face flushed red as she fled the bookstore as if running away.
Only then did the owner's face relax, as if a weight had finally been lifted. In the end the children safely claimed the spot she had abandoned.
"I'll buy those books."
I held up the volumes with the clear water stains and spoke. The owner hurriedly waved his hands.
"Oh no, not at all. As a token of gratitude, I'll give them to you as a gift. That person was stressing me out something fierce, and thanks to you I've got a real load off my mind. Thank you for helping."
The owner kept bowing his head, expressing his thanks over and over. I hadn't done it to receive thanks, though.
"No, don't mention it. Then I'll take these books and pick out a few more to pay for."
I looked down at the water-stained book and smiled faintly. That book was none other than Money and Psychology.
Let's see... what should I read first?
I headed straight home, sat on the bed, and began reading the two books one after another. Strangely, I couldn't suppress the urge to keep reading no matter how hard I tried.
How much time had passed?
Something truly astonishing happened. The pages were packed with words I had never learned, yet somehow I felt no resistance or interruption as I read. Vague memories of things I had once glimpsed or overheard rose up one after another, and the context simply made sense on its own.
When I finally came to myself, the sky outside the window had grown dark, and I was turning the final page.
I already finished the whole thing?
I had never known my concentration could be this good. Calling it a rough skim would have been a lie—the contents of the book rose in my mind with perfect clarity.
I closed the book and sank into thought for a moment.
Investment, huh...
I had never once considered investing or stocks. Life had always been too tight for that, and the idea that money had to be earned honestly had been fixed in my head like an unbreakable rule.
But now my thinking had changed. Working at the company, I had managed to save a fair amount. I decided I would study more carefully, think it through thoroughly, and only then make a decision about investing.
Yet somehow I couldn't shake the feeling that I wouldn't fail.
The next morning.
A new week was beginning. In the past I had suffered from Monday blues so badly I hated going to work, but today my steps felt strangely light.
I came down the alley, rode the subway, and arrived at headquarters with an easy stride toward the main entrance. Once inside the building I headed for the elevators, where a familiar face was already waiting.
"Hello, Ms. Kang Bitna."
"Ah!"
When I greeted her, Kang Bitna jumped and stared at me.
"Ah..."
Not knowing where to put her eyes, she swept her long straight hair back and offered an awkward greeting. Her eyes were so large the fluster was plain to see. A flush rose across her pale face.
"Ah, hello, Assistant Manager Noh Hoojin. Oh right—I forgot the coffee. You go up first. Haha."
"Um, in your hand..."
She laughed boldly, stepped backward while speaking, and then vanished as if fleeing—coffee still clutched in one hand.
The people waiting for the elevator watched her retreating back with puzzled expressions, but I knew exactly why she was so flustered.
Hmm. She'll probably feel uncomfortable for a while.
The moment I ran into her, the events of Friday night had also scrambled through my own head. I was restless enough; she had woken up naked in a motel, so how much worse must it be for her?
Still—no one at the company had seen us, right?
When I reached the Marketing Team 3 office, Junior Associate Kim Seungho and Assistant Manager Jo Cheoljeong were already there, sorting through the materials that had piled up overnight.
Kim Seungho was a twenty-eight-year-old man who had only just been promoted to junior associate. He had an unfitting permed hairstyle and a playful face. He had a decent sense of style and a good sense of humor, so he served as the team's mood maker.
Assistant Manager Jo Cheoljeong was thirty—two years younger than me. His hair was parted in a razor-sharp two-to-eight style, and his lean face and sharp eyes matched the meticulous, thorough, somewhat cynical atmosphere he projected. Of course he was good at his job. He had joined a year after me, yet his performance was far better. He had a quiet tendency to look down on me, but it didn't really matter. He was competent—so what?
In truth we almost never clashed. He was a complete workaholic who only cared about his own tasks. He probably wasn't even in the assistant managers' group chat the way I was. He could be a bit rude, but that was just who he was, so I paid it no mind.
When I reached my desk I found a mountain of documents waiting. A rough scan showed they were analysis reports on new subscribers and cancellations over the past three months, plus charts on data usage and consumption patterns broken down by age group and region. The order was so jumbled it was hard to make sense of at a glance, and the volume was enormous.
A sticky note on top, written in a hasty scrawl, simply ordered me to organize the data and email it. Anyone could see it had been left there to mess with me. Manager Park had almost certainly put it there. The closest work friend of Manager Heo Seongtae—the man who had been hauled off by the police because of me—was none other than our team's Manager Park Heegon. Birds of a feather, as they say.
Yet something felt strange. Even after only a rough glance, every piece of data sank cleanly into my head and began sorting itself into its proper place on its own. It felt as if I only needed to output it as-is. In the past this would have been more than enough work for overtime.
"Did Manager Park leave this?"
At my question Assistant Manager Jo Cheoljeong gave no reaction at all. Junior Associate Kim Seungho turned his chair, stood, and approached with an awkward expression.
"Ah, yes. He said to process it by today and leave it..."
Kim Seungho glanced at my face carefully.
"Where did the two of them go?"
"Manager Park Heegon said he's attending a joint meeting with the sales team, and Deputy General Manager Jeon Yonggi isn't coming to the office—he went straight out on field work."
"Hmm..."
While I sank into thought for a moment, Kim Seungho edged closer and spoke in a near whisper.
"It's too much, right? Shall I help? I can roughly sort things by topic..."
"No, it's fine. You have plenty of your own work, Junior Associate Kim. Just do your job. I'll handle this alone."
"Ah, yes! Understood."
Kim Seungho answered snappily and returned to his seat. Ever since the slap incident a few days earlier, the way he treated me had been noticeably different.
I sat down, pushed the documents to one side, and turned on the computer. Then I naturally put on the horn-rimmed glasses I kept under the monitor. I didn't usually wear them, but I tended to put them on for computer work. Otherwise I would unconsciously lean my face right up against the screen.
"Good morning! Hello, everyone!"
At that moment Kang Bitna entered the office and bowed in greeting. I returned it with a light nod of my head. Giving her extra attention would only make her more uncomfortable.
"Wow, more energetic than usual today, Ms. Kang Bitna."
Kim Seungho looked at her and grinned.
"Really? Thank you! What should I do today?"
"Haha! Bitna, what a joke. You didn't finish a single thing I assigned on Friday. Keep working on that."
Kim Seungho was in charge of training the new hire. It was a situation that could easily have made someone angry, yet he guided her gently so neither of them lost face.
"Aha! Yes! Understood!"
Kang Bitna answered with complete confidence, not the least bit cowed. Kim Seungho and Kang Bitna had a surprisingly good chemistry.
Ah, but why do I feel dizzy?
Even before I started working, a wave of dizziness hit me. It felt as if the glasses prescription no longer matched. Had my eyes gotten worse?
I took the glasses off and examined them for a moment. Looking at them changed nothing, but I checked them anyway. Putting them back on left me just as dizzy. Strangely, though, even without the glasses the letters on the screen looked a little clearer.
What? Weird. Can eyesight actually improve on its own?
I tilted my head, looking back and forth between the glasses and the monitor. But I couldn't keep doing that forever.
I'll have to stop by an optician after work.
I simply began working without the glasses.
Move this category over here... create a new folder inside the folder...
While keeping the existing manuals and frameworks intact, a more intuitive and efficient way of classifying everything rose in my mind on its own. My hands and eyes moved quickly as I began transferring the contents of the documents into the computer.
An hour later I had perfectly organized the three-month new-subscriber and cancellation analysis report. Under normal circumstances it would have taken about four hours. Of course I also shortened the title as much as possible, rewriting it as "3-Month New/Cancel Analysis Report."
This is almost supernatural. All right—let's knock this out fast too.
I began organizing the regional data, usage volumes, and consumption-pattern analysis separately using Excel and PowerPoint. Amazingly, I was able to carry out both tasks almost simultaneously.
This is insane! I've never seen work processed like this.
Anyone watching my method would have thought I was rushing through it sloppily just to finish, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. Both the data organization and the pattern analysis were being completed perfectly. No—beyond mere analysis, even the problems and their solutions were rising in my mind.
Why am I like this today? Something feels off.
When I finished the work and checked the time, two hours had passed. If the old me had tried to organize this data it would have taken more than six hours. On top of that, the finished analysis charts were the finest I had ever produced.
I looked at the clock. 11:55.
I had wrapped up every single task of the morning exactly before noon. Looks like I would get to take it easy in the afternoon.
Time for lunch.
I saved the organized materials and stood up from my desk.