Payments these days are nuttier than a squirrel convention in Central Park. Once upon a time, you bought something, handed over cash, and that was it. Simple. Now? Every purchase comes with a flowchart and a math quiz.

Take credit cards. They lure you in with shiny points like dangling peanuts in front of a distracted squirrel. Then they ask: Would you like to pay over time? Sounds nice, like they’re doing you a favor. But no it’s just a new flavor of nut. Instead of interest, they charge you a “flat monthly fee.” Translation: the squirrel tax. You’re still paying extra, just dressed up in a new costume.

Then there are subscriptions. Somehow I’m paying for at least four streaming services, two cloud storage plans, and something mysterious called “digital protection.” (From what? Hackers? Ghosts? Future me forgetting my password?) It all adds up like nuts rolling under the couch. One by one, they don’t seem like much, but together it’s a giant acorn pile I can’t climb out of.

Even food payments are nutty now. Go out for dinner, and the bill comes with four different suggested tips, a “kitchen appreciation fee,” and a surcharge for breathing the air indoors. I half-expect a line item soon for “chair rental.”

At the end of the day, the nuttiness of payments is this: money isn’t just money anymore. It’s points, fees, rewards, subscriptions, and a thousand hidden acorns buried where you least expect them. And while I’m chasing the dream of “free flights” with my points, I somehow end up paying more for the coffee that I bought just to earn those points. Clouds in my coffee indeed.

So maybe the trick is this: accept the nutty system, but every now and then, gather your receipts, laugh at the absurdity, and treat yourself to an actual bag of roasted nuts. At least those you can eat.