Many years ago, I discovered a truth. When you are avoiding something that needs to be addressed, there is a lull in conversation. You can’t seem to find other topics to fill the void, and there is silence. But once you actually talk about the matter at hand, things begin to flow again.
As much as this is true in a conversation between two people, it also applies to journaling. By avoiding the things on your mind, you create writer’s block.
As discussed in a previous post, there are blogging boundaries- not everything on your heart goes on the internet. Keeping that in mind, I’ve still decided that, in the spirit of quality writing, I’m gonna talk about personal stuff anyway.
Money is an awkward subject for most of us. I think my upbringing bred additional awkwardness, but my upbringing is another subject all together. I hate talking about money, worrying about money, negotiating money….. pretty much everything but actually possessing money. Even when I was barely a teenager, I dreaded the question, “How much do you charge for babysitting?”. Awkward.
This season of my life is low-income. Most of my life trained me to live low-income-ly (something good came out of that situation), so, for the most part, I’m good with the simple things. I know how to stretch a dollar, cut out luxuries, differentiate between needs and wants, and creatively solve problems. Sure, there are frustrations. But if my biggest issue is not instantly satisfying specific food cravings, I’m pretty fortunate. (For the record, at this moment, I want Jamba Juice, mongolian bbq, and maybe Roscoe’s chicken and waffles. And no, not together.).
Of course, I do worry sometimes. Since my paycheck comes only once a month, a strict and careful budget is necessary. Near the end of the month, I find myself strategically conserving gas and my meals become slightly unconventional in order to make the best of any food we might already have. This isn’t a horrible thing, though. It’s just life right now, and it’s a life for which I signed up when I chose to return to school. I am far from poverty. In fact, by the standards of much of the world population, I am wealthy. I have everything I need, my bills are paid, and I am HAPPY. That’s right, even in the midst of a depressive cycle, I. Am. Happy. That’s worth more than an increased paycheck any day.
Sometimes I want to talk about it. I want to work out the latest mini-crisis of budget, or figure out how to solve an unexpected expense. I want to be honest and tell you I can’t go to a movie or drive that far because I don’t have the money, and not have it be cringingly awkward. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to offer to help. While I MUCH appreciate the caring and support (sincerely, I do), I made this lifestyle decision, and I’m responsible for the consequences. If other people pick up my slack, that’s not right.
So there it is- I’m practically broke, and I’m ok. Christmas gifts will come from the heart this year, not my wallet. I’m behind on many of the latest movies, and I rarely go out to eat. I sacrifice some social outings and instant gratification, but I find fun in free or low-cost places. Any out-of-house dining is directed by coupons. I take advantage of sales, deals, and specials. I am blessed with good friends and family- both blood and adopted. I’ve had so many incredible opportunities in the past to go, do, and see… and I’m sure I will be able to do these things again in the future. But the most important thing is that the present is pretty rich with awesome and win (otherwise know as a blessed life).
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