“I don’t know why you’re trying to do this,” Jasmine says.

“Because I’m trying to make money.”

I sit at my black desk in my home office, staring at the computer screen.  Jasmine sits on the couch behind me while on her phone doing I don’t know what.

Jasmine’s in her last year of university, whereas I finished last year, completing my bachelor’s degree in journalism.

I’m setting up my website to sell my creative work, attempting to make more money for us.

“I could always get a job,” Jasmine told me earlier this year.  She sat next to me on my bed.

“No,” I immediately told her, “You need to focus on your education.  You’re almost finished.”

That was the end of that conversation.

“You know not everything has to be done because you need money, right?” Jasmine asks.  “And it seems like you’ve been rather stressed out about all this money business.”

“I have to at least try.”

“You sound like Mom.”

“Because I used to actually listen to her,” I snap, knowing it would hurt her.