Sep
23
A while ago I wrote elsewhere about my efforts to cut back on household expenses, and subsequently choosing drugstore shampoos over the good stuff. In the comments on that article someone told me I was being “penny wise and pound foolish”, which kind of pissed me off because how does that make me pound foolish, exactly? It’s not like I stopped buying salon products, switched to Pantene, then started dunking my head in a vat of truffle oil after my showers.
At any rate, I think I’ve learned that decent shampoo is, in fact, worth the money. Mind you, I don’t think it actually makes much of a difference in my hair. My hair is what it is: a hot mess, for the most part, primarily because I have an annoying high-maintenance haircut which I am doing zero maintenance on. It’s just that using a soap that feels good and smells good is one of those human niceties that somehow seems to make a palpable difference in my day.
Same with skincare crap. Yes, I could use the Cetaphil, or I could pony up for something that doesn’t look like jizz. It’s the little things, you know?
I have followed through on some other budget reductions, though, including finally stopping the cleaning service I have used and loved with all my heart for years. I hated saying goodbye to the ladies who continually managed to make my toaster look like something that should be hanging in the Louvre, but I could no longer justify the cost. Especially since I’m cleaning all the fucking time these days for those ever-entertaining surprise realtor visits.
(I thought I was doing a decent job of keeping the place cleaning-service-clean, too, and then I peeked under the bed today when a rather large mound of Unidentifiable Whitish Fluff emerged. I don’t really want to discuss what I saw, but I will say I spent the next 20 minutes scurrying around like the kids’ Zhu Zhu hamster trying to get under there with the vacuum because my GOD. MY GOD WHO LIVES LIKE THAT. Hoarders, that’s who.)
Oh, and I cancelled our CSA share, finally being honest with myself that I wasn’t really making 100% good use of the entire box of healthful, planet-friendly produce. If only the local farms would offer a box half full of green leafy vegetables, half full of pretzel crisps, but alas.
Then I turned around and bought a CrossFit gym membership, which negates a good chunk of my cutting back. So far I believe it to be worth every penny, but I suppose some might call it pound foolish.
I keep circling our spending like a math-stupid wolf, peering and trying to decide what I can ditch, what I want to keep. I’ve started dividing purchases into my freelance salary, which is a depressing but maybe-useful exercise. Should I buy the giant select-a-size pack of Bounty paper napkins that will take me an article on goddamned Lindsay Lohan to pay for? Or should I maybe . . . use a dishtowel? The entire endeavor reminds me of trying to lose weight, where the process of trying to get to a place where you don’t think as much about your weight, ironically, makes you think about your fucking weight all the time.
I know these are vague sorts of questions and kind of overly personal to boot, but how would you describe your relationship with money? Do you focus on budget issues all the time, or only during certain times of the month, or what? Is one of the larger stressors in your life, or way down the list? Has it changed one way or the other in the last few years?
Sep
22
We were at the store earlier today and on a whim I decided to buy a couple of sturdy plastic magnifying glasses for the boys. The instant I handed one over to Riley, he held it up to his face and shrieked with delight. “MY HAND!” he yelled. “MY HAND IS SO HUGE!”
He was so loud, people from adjoining aisles were peering over to see what was going on. I smiled and made little frantic hushing motions.
“My hand is like a MONSTER HAND!”
“Yes, it’s—”
“MOM CHECK OUT MY HAAAAAAAAAND!”
“Yes. Um. Shhhh.”
“Wait a minute! MOM! MOMMMMMM! Guess what? Guess what Mom? MOM GUESS WHAT?”
“What? Shhhh. Remember about using your indoor voice, okay? What?”
“Mom this glass actually makes everything big!”
“Yes, well um . . . yes, it’s a magnify—”
“MOM I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!”
People were standing around laughing and grinning, elbowing each other. We’d actually attracted a small crowd.
“MOM IT MAKES EVERYTHING MONSTER BIG!”
“Okay! That’s great! Time to go.”
“Mom? MOM?”
“Yes.”
“Mom, this is . . . blowing my mind.”
“Ah, is it? Heh. Well—”
“MOM I CAN’T WAIT TO TELL DAD ABOUT THIS.”
“Yeah? Me either.”
-
My product review site:
[