When I was living on my own, I operated under the mentality that the first few years of my working life was for enjoyment. After all, I’ve worked hard, damnit. I spent a couple of nights a week at the neighbourhood pub with friends. And I never made a grocery list, going instead by what I felt like buying at any given moment. I bought DVDs, some of which I’ve yet to watch. And I took cabs everywhere, even if it would have just taken me 10 minutes on foot to get where I wanted.
Today, living with mom, and providing for more than just my own life, I’ve become somewhat of a miser. Less extravagant meals. Close to zero social life (I catch up with friends only once in a blue moon but that’s because living far up north puts me in less of a mood to meet downtown). And I’ve stopped on the frivolous purchases. Which has helped pay for much-needed holidays to get away from it all.
So when I found myself planning my budget and itinerary for my impending birthday break, I made a startling discovery. As much as I’ve watched my spending, I managed to blow away $300 last week. And I honestly don’t know what on. Which leads me to one conclusion. Either money is just so easily spent or someone has been sneaking cash out of my purse. (Having been robbed in Seattle led me to be overly suspicious of things.)
I didn’t lose much sleep over it though. As stingy as I possibly am getting, I’ve always planned for contingency expenditure.
Looking back at the year and exploring my state of mind now also yield a couple more discoveries. I’ve grown to hate planning my life. Not because my plans never seem to work out but because I’m getting sick of being sure about the things and getting these crazy curveballs.
Even for my birthday break, I’ve had no plans cast in stone other than my ticket to Sydney and back. I figured I shouldn’t spend grey matter or energy fretting on meeting flights, appointments and expectations. So here’s what I know now. Getting to Gold Coast might be more trouble than it’s worth. In my mind, I kept picturing a quick trip not fully realizing/admitting that it’s in another state. And roller coasters can wait. Pouring over my guidebook and tourism sites, I couldn’t ignore Blue Mountains and it’s looking easy to get to. (The money I spend on a full-priced plane ticket is better spent on a nice B&B and much-needed massage. I could go for the sale tickets now but I hate confirming plans now. There’s also the scary possibility of mom’s divorce going awry and my not being able to leave the country because I have to tend to these things.) I got excited at the possibility of catching La Boheme at the Sydney Opera House while I'm there. And while I’m open to taking a bus down to Canberra, it’s not a must-do. But even with all these thoughts in my head, I haven’t decided what to do and I probably won’t until the day before I fly out or when I get there. Which is the way it should be, right? Thanks Tim, for giving me the opportunity to be lazier and more spontaneous than ever.
While I can’t wait for the day to come, I’m going to chuck it out of my head for the time it takes to get work over and done with and whaddya know, it’ll be here before I know it. Wish me luck.
P.S. If it means something to you, Happy 4th of July.
