‘œLife takes on meaning when you become motivated, set goals and charge after them in an unstoppable manner.’ ‘“ Les Brown

When my wife’s contract suddenly ended at the end of March, we made a number of sudden and dramatic cuts to our budget.   We trimmed our existing bills, cut unneeded services, and stopped eating out.   We started taking on extra work that normally we’d refuse, including jobs that paid substantially less than what we’d usually accept.

Some things I barely miss.   With all the extra work I’ve taken on, I don’t have time to miss my cancelled piano and guitar lessons.   We’ve been without cable and satellite television for two years now, and I’ve long since stopped caring about the network programs that I previously found so addicting.   The extra work leaves me with little time to watch rented movies, so the cuts we made to our movie rental and entertainment budget have mostly gone unnoticed.

What I do miss is eating out, especially when I have been working so many extra hours.   Back in the old days, when my wife and I found ourselves super-busy at work, we’d pick up the phone, order a pizza, or run out for a nice meal in a restaurant.   We’d go out, get a little time to ourselves, and then go home and collapse into bed.

Now I have all the fatigue of working huge amounts of overtime, but I’m not seeing the financial rewards of doing so.   Rather than overtime being a source of extra disposable income, it’s now a necessity.   It’s keeping the wolves at bay, at least for now.   I feel like I’m on a financial diet, one that consists both of calorie restriction (budget cuts) and forced exercise (working overtime) and it’s just not a great deal of fun.

The most difficult aspect of all these cutbacks has been cancelling our plans for our first wedding anniversary.   Although my wife and I have been together almost 11 years, we took advantage of California’s brief period of legal gay marriage, and were married last June.   We’d planned to go back to the expensive hotel where we honeymooned last year.   We were looking forward to a weekend of pricey meals, dual hour-long massages, soaking in a fancy hot tub, and some nice wine.

Instead, our 13-year-old daughter will be spending the night with a friend, and we plan to stay home and watch old episodes of Star Trek on DVD.   If we are lucky, we might crack open a bottle of Two Buck Chuck.

Watching old television re-runs and drinking extreme value wine at home is a huge step down from staying at a resort and getting massages.   It’s hard not to be disappointed, and the temptation is to just whip out the credit card, stick with our original plans, and try to pretend that we can afford a nice mini-vacation.

After nearly three months of imposed frugality, we are finding it difficult to stay on track. Nobody likes to be on a strict diet (financial or otherwise) especially when there seems to be no end in sight.   It’s hard to stay on the right path, even when we both know that it’s absolutely, unquestionably, the right thing to do.

So every time we are tempted, we sit down and ask ourselves the following questions:

1.       Is the temptation truly a want or a need? We’ve paid close attention to that question, and it’s managed to keep us out of a lot of trouble.   We need to make our mortgage payment, have running automobiles and keep food on the table.   A fancy resort vacation is something we want, but we aren’t going to shrivel up and die without it.   Sure, it might feel that way, but in reality nothing adverse will happen if we go yet another year without a vacation.

2.       How much will succumbing to the temptation block us from later financial goals? We’ve managed to pay off our credit cards, and we’d like to keep them that way.   We’ve been working hard to repay our debt (consisting of our mortgage, an automobile loan, and a small tuition loan from a relative) and it’s important for us not to incur more. A tempting $2 burrito at the local carniceria won’t cause nearly as much damage as an expensive vacation we can’t really afford.

3.       Will we feel bad about it later? When opportunities to spend money come up, we ask ourselves if we’ll feel back about indulging (or not indulging) later.   We take a good long look at the emotional costs of spending, or not spending, and make a decision.

We both realize that living a life of complete austerity isn’t going to work, and I know from experience that it can certainly contribute to financial infidelity, as well.   My wife and I have been working hard to reduce our expectations, and reduce the price of our indulgences.   In the old days, we’d go out for sushi when we felt extravagant.   Now, we wait for cheap burrito day at the carniceria.

Of course we are still looking for better-paying contracts and hope that eventually things will get better.

Next in series: Keeping the Plastic Paid Off

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