I don’t believe in New Year’s Eve. The year is ending. It’s a wind-down, not a party.
I do believe in New Year’s Day, and tomorrow is going to be fabulous. I’m creating a fort around my already massive bed. I’m re-organizing my sweater drawer and storage space, I’ll be writing, and I think I’ll take a wee road trip.
Tonight, though, I’ll mourn the endings. I’ve been lucky this year; the only ‘loved’ ones I’ve lost are some items that I actually have a love/hate relationship with. My credit cards. As of today, they have all been destroyed. Cut up into tiny pieces. I’ve consolidated, and called it quits. I am simply tired of even thinking about them.
For a very thrifty lady, it’s ridiculous how easily I can live above my means. It’s like I think being thrifty saves me. I shop at second-hand stores, and even that, only rarely, as I mend and patch everything. I gleefully snap up friends old sofas. I use my local library. I consume very little.
Unfortunately, life consumes me. I love my wine club membership, and my meals with my various book clubs and pub quiz teams and friends and neighbors. If a trip comes up, or a once-in-a-lifetime concert (and a lot of them are once-in-a-lifetime), or an odd treasure hunt through China Basin, then damn the expense.
I do budget. I visit my online banking site almost daily, to update transactions and peer short-sightedly at pie charts. I comparison shop. I delay large purchases until the right time. I tell myself exactly how much I have to spend this week. But then something unexpected happens, or someone unexpected turns up. And I don’t like to say no.
Enough. Out with the old. I recently discovered that I can drink water at a bar and have a good time. (Not AS good, but hey, that’s probably expected.) I’ve actually had the same amount of revolving debt for almost ten years (since my year-long roadtrip) but it’s starting to stick in my craw, and the recent changes to the banking industry have given the Fat Cats a bizarre urge to squash me, though I’ve never even been late with a payment.
So I’m done.
And tomorrow, I’ll start building everything back up. In a healthier, wiser way. No well-wishes tonight, but tomorrow I’ll wish you the very best New Year.