In the most basic sense, having one hundred dollars is having one hundred dollars. For most of my life, that alone made me feel rich.

The downside to having all of it locked up in one bill is that it doesn’t feel like freedom when you go to use it. Nobody will break it. Many places won’t even take it.

For those who have never worked retail, the idea of not being able to use a one hundred dollar bill seems ridiculous. After all, it is legal tender.

However, a register may only have one hundred dollars total, including change. A cashier at McDonald’s might not be able to give you $98.72 back for your large Diet Coke. And now they can’t give anyone else any change.

That restriction, however, is quite freeing.

It means I really must spend it.

Not five dollars at a time over the course of weeks. But all at once. And at a place that expects that.

• Which means I can choose to be practical: groceries, a new coat.
• I can go extravagant: new games, an armload of books, or nice shoes.
• Or I can put it toward a big ticket item I’m saving for.

Having a one hundred dollar bill forces me away from the automatic: spending it on day-to-day stuff. And by doing that, it opens up the possibility of spending it on something I wouldn’t.

This is particularly true when that hundred dollar bill comes as a gift.

While it is fine to spend someone’s gift on something you’d often get anyway, isn’t it closer to the purpose of the gift to spend it on something you really want? Something fun? Or something you are hesitant to buy?

And isn’t that more freeing?