The weather has been really crazy lately and this has me thinking about spring seasons that have come before. Traditionally we believe that spring should be slightly warmer than the bitter cold months of winter. We are ok with rain because we know its the rain that will usher in the beautiful colors of summer. One thing we generally don't appreciate in the spring is more snow. By the time April rolls around here in the Midwest we've about had as much snow and sleet and cold that we can take. We've had enough of the gloom and humdrum of gray winter days and are ready for the sun to shine and brighten our moods. One of my favorite moments in spring is the first day I can open up the windows and let the fresh spring air breeze through the house. The smell of fresh crisp air always puts me in a good mood. My cats love it too. When they see me reaching for the crank and start to open the windows wide they get very excited and rush over to the nearest window and shove their little cat faces into the screens. They will sit in the sills for hours on end just bathing in the light freshness of the outdoors. They never get to go outside so this is a nice treat for them.
This spring has been a rash of up and down weather which has been more of a tease than a treat. One day it's in the sixties and the sun is shining and the next it's in the thirties and snowing. I'm not sure what this means as far as Mother Nature is concerned, but for us mere mortals it is quite frustrating. Here we are on the doorstep of May and its still too cold to open the windows. Just last week my friends in Michigan told me it was snowing again! Thankfully here in Indiana we did not have to endure yet another cold brush with the white stuff, but it has not been very warm either. It doesn't surprise me a whole lot that the weather has been so unpredictable this year, it's not the first time in my life that the weather in April has been crazy and I'm sure it won't be the last.
This weather makes me think of something else though, it reminds me of my wedding day six years ago. We had decided to get married on our "dating" anniversary in April (probably so my Husband wouldn't have to try and remember a different anniversary date, he had this one already committed to memory so why confuse the poor man?). Because we are originally from the Midwest and are all too familiar with how fickle the spring can be we decided that our wedding should be indoors just in case. I was a little bummed to make this determination because I had initially wanted our wedding either at the Butterfly House at the Detroit Zoo or the Conservatory on Bel Isle, but rational thinking got the better of me and we decided the wedding should be held inside, so we settled on the Church I grew up in and the Pub that had become our second home due to my Husband's other job as a musician.
The morning of our wedding started out fair enough, there didn't appear to be any major warnings of bad weather headed our way but by the time the ceremony started so had the sleet, snow and high velocity bitter cold winds. Just our luck. So while I do find it completely annoying for this coldness to hang on for so long, it does not surprise me in the slightest.
Speaking of weddings, my six/eleven year anniversary is this Sunday. We've been together for eleven years and married for six. It didn't happen until recently that we developed a true annual anniversary celebration. Something that we can do every year and enjoy thoroughly. We aren't the typical traditional kind of couple, which is probably one of the reasons we get along so famously; we like our relationship like our lives - slighly off center. This does not mean that we never celebrate our relationship and it's history, we certainly do but it has never been the same thing from year to year. Three years ago we discovered this wonderful little fish market called Paula's here in town and have decided we will celebrate our anniversary there from now on. Before Paula's we had done the basic dinner at home, date night out, cards and gifts etc. Nothing too terribly exciting. Paula's is the kind of place you have to plan ahead for, its a bit pricey - ok it's a lot pricey, definitely the kind of place we can only enjoy once a year. This only makes it all the more exciting when it's time to make our reservation. For the past week my taste buds have been tingling in anticipation of what wonderful dish will be their delight in only a few short days.
One of my favorite things about Paula's is the interior decor. Nothing matches. The tables are all made of various types of wood or wrought iron, the chairs vary from plastic to wood to wrought iron. The placewear is all different styles and colors. On the walls you'll find everything from local artist paintings to garage sale sculptures. The whole place is a mish mash of whatever the owner could bring in locally. I'm sure some ritzy foody would disagree with me here, but personally I find the mix of color and texture very pleasant. It only makes the atmosphere that much more charming. And even though we have to save our pennies to afford dinner we can still wear jeans and feel totally at ease in our seats. No jacket or tie required.
What you end up paying for is the food instead of the silverware, which is the way it should be. Another clever thing about Paula's is the fact that it truly is a Fish Market. The entrance to the restaurant is actually a small foyer with a glass case filled with the days freshest selections of seafood. They run a small storefront there with all the hollering of prices and cuts just like something out of the movies. So what you see in the market is what you will be enjoying on your plate later during your meal.
Now, I've never been a big seafood eater and I have a couple of reasons why, the first is that I have always had an affinity towards the sea. Anything to do with the Ocean and it's inhabitants have facinated me my whole life. When I was younger I used to fancy the idea I would one day be a Marine Biologist. I love sea creatures. They are quirky and strange and fun to watch and explore. I always thought that they held some kind of secret that I longed to hear. The thought of eating one of these creatures turned my stomach. Is there a term for that? Think of a vegetarian but for seafood. I am not now nor will I ever be a vegetarian in the traditional sense of the word, I am from the Midwest so I'm perfectly comfortable eating meat and fully understand how the steak made it to my plate. For some reason I don't feel the same way about Cows as I do about the Salmon.
The second reason is that when I was younger my Mom had the brilliant idea to cook Shark. For what reason I have no idea, I was too small to remember any of the details surrounding this dinner decision but what I do remember is the smell. That horrid, putrid fishy smell of the shark cooking in our kitchen, it overwhelmed the entire house. Ever since then I've had an aversion to anything seafood. Over the years I've tried several different types of seafood including but not limited to; Red Snapper, Shrimp (I cannot, I say cannot handle the peal and eat kind!), Crab (and crab cakes), Lobster, Salmon and Talapia. The latter two being the only that I cared for in the slightest and also the only two that I eat with any degree of regularity. I know you health nuts out there are going to harp on me for not eating more fish but I just don't care for it. Over the past eleven years my husband has slowly but surely been introducing me to various different types of seafood so my fish eating has gotten more regular. He loves seafood and can't quite understand why I don't enjoy it as much as he does. He has made it his mission in life to get me to try and eat more fish and pressuring me into saying that I actually like it. I have finally conceded the fact that Talapia and Salmon are mild enough that I do enjoy them (with enough seasoning) that they are now a part of our regular weekly rotation of dinner meals.
I have no doubt however that when we order our meals at Paula's my husband will order the Surf and Turf and I will order the Turf (thankfully they have a small variety of land animals to choose from), I will probably have a couple bites of his Lobster (sold at "market price" yikes!) to appease his need for me to expand my tastebuds, but I can't bring myself to order a whole meal of seafood. I am also looking forward to the appetizer and salad I will be having on Sunday. They make this fried Boursin cheese dish with raspberry drizzle over croutons that is simply delectable. The Ceasar salad is wonderful as well, the dressing is rather mild in comparison to other restaurants and they don't drown the lettuce in the dressing either which I appreciate. On the whole, a meal at Paula's will run us quite a few duckets but it is worth every penny and so worth the wait.
The weather report says it will be cold and rainy for our anniversary this year, which is appropriate since it was sleeting on our wedding day, nothing like keeping with the tradition. Regardless of what the weather does I know that we will enjoy ourselves and eat like Kings and Queens on our special day.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Where the Lost Socks Go
I'm sorry but the coin laundry is a depressing place. I don't care what your reasons are for being there the coin laundry is a sad, dismal place with ancient machines, stale snacks and broken down seating. It's hot and stuffy and smells of fried dryer sheets and body odor.
When I moved out on my own I had to make regular weekly trips to the coin laundry, because honestly what 20-something can afford to buy their own washing and drying machines? So every week I'd gather my wads of change, geared with at least one magazine but preferably a good book and haul my load up to the laundrymat . There's nothing more boring than sitting at the laundrymat watching clothes spin and dry for hours that never seem to end.
There's a certain etiquette one must follow while withering the time away watching the spin cycle. You must make sure to give your fellow coin droppers a wide berth so as to allow plenty of space to spread out and fold their piles of personals. You'll need to give yourself a good 5 to 10 minutes of adjusting to the atmosphere before enganging your neighbor with polite conversation. You don't want to startle anyone. Everyone is slightly on edge, keeping an eye on their things and vying for positioning, so just give yourself a few moments to spot the Omega before cramming your way in there.
By the time I was married I had officially graduated from the coin laundry to my very own in home washer and dryer. My first house was rather small so we had to use the "apartment" size machines - you know the type? The washer is on the bottom and the dryer is attached to the top so it fits into a small space? It was a good machine and I was very grateful to have it. It's the same thing when you've spent your whole life washing dishes by hand and then finally get a dishwasher. Oh it's fabulous! Have you experienced this little life pleasure? I don't think I can ever go back to washing my dishes by hand, now that I've been spoiled with the dishwasher's ease of use and delightful ability to allow me the time to accomplish other chores while it works it's wonders. Right now for instance - the dishwasher is gently running it's cycle while I write this blog. My hands are not dried out nor slighly burned from the hot water and my nails are not chipping. And I have time to write which is clearly the best part.
Unfortunately machines are just machines and they are subject to breaking down from time to time. Sometimes they break down due to user error (like the time I forgot to empty the lint trap and it got all clogged up), and sometimes they break down due to age and excess use. Machines need regular maintenance and without this they tend to get crabby and break down. Thankfully I have a husband who can fix just about anything that needs fixing around the house. He's quite handy to have around. I'm not sure what I would do without him...Probably end up living in squalor with broken light bulbs, spazzing smoke detectors and chipping paint at every turn. So it goes without saying that when our dryer recently took a crap and died I was sure that my husband would be able to take the machine apart, figure out the problem and have it fixed before dinner. No such luck.
We were right in the middle of cooking a nice Sunday dinner of home made spinach pie with rice pilaf when the proverbial shit hit the fan. Spinach pie is not a highly complicated dish but it is rather time consuming to prepare with several components. It's not a meal we make regularly but its one of my husband's favorites and one of the few meals he likes to make by himself (or at least be a major part of), he had been craving it for a couple weeks so he was really excited to make it on Sunday. While he was chopping and sauteing the onion I was doing some sous chef work for him (prepping the cooking utensils, melting the butter, rinsing the spinach etc.) and at the same time I was getting the laundry started, I was rushing to get the first load from the washer into the dryer and the next load into the washer so I could return to my aforementioned kitchen duties before something tragic could happen. My husband doesn't spend a great deal of time in the kitchen so I like to keep an eye on him if he's cooking dinner...Just in case. He had started laying the filo dough in the pan and spreading the melted butter over top when we both heard a horrible sound coming from the laundry room. It was a low groaning sound that made us both look up from our work in confused horror. Something was clearly not right and since we were both covered in melted butter and feta cheese it was obviously not the sound either of us wanted to hear.
The dryer had stopped on it's own. It sounded like the motor kicked the bucket, I was afraid to try and check the problem out myself for the same reason I am afraid to leave my husband alone in the kitchen; with my luck a fire would have started. So we set dinner aside and went to check out the problem together. He pulled the machine out and tried to take it apart to find the cause of the problem. While he worked on that I returned to the kitchen to finish spreading the filo dough before it dried out. I knew we were in for a long night when I heard the following two phrases coming from the laundry room: "Oh come on!" and then: "Motherfucker!" Whenever those words are uttered while he is trying to fix something I know there is a major problem. He returned to the kitchen looking mildly defeated as it's not often there's a problem he can't fix. And then he said it, the 7 words no one wants to hear: "We have to go to the laundrymat." Ugh. Not at all what I was hoping to hear at that moment. He explained that he didn't have the right tools to open up the machine and he didn't want to break it so he wanted to call in a professional. But who can you get to come fix a dryer on a Sunday night? No one. We even reconciled ourselves to paying an arm and a leg to get someone out there that night but no one was available. Most places weren't even open let alone available and so we had to make peace with the fact that we would be spending our Sunday evening at the damn coin laundry.
Dinner came first however. There was no way that we were going to let all that hard work and delicious food go to waste, so we finished cooking the pie and pilaf and enjoyed a scrumptious dinner. Thankfully I had already put two loads into the wash so we only had one load left to wash while the other two dried so it wasn't like we had to spend several hours at the laundrymat, it was only about an hour and a half or so. I brought my book and my husband was delighted to spend his time getting the high scores on an old Centapede and Ms. Pacman arcade game. There weren't very many people there when we arrived; one woman drying a comforter who claimed she only goes to the laundrymat for this reason as if she had to justify why she was there to the rest of us patrons, and another woman who was doing about 20 loads for what appeard to be an entire litter of children (although she probably only had a couple kids, but we all know how kids clothes tend to pile up like Mt. Rushmore when we aren't looking), she too felt the need to explain why she was there - her dryer was on the fritz as well. I'm not sure why we feel the need to explain ourselves to the other coin laundry goers, it's as if we are embarrssed by being there. Honestly there is no reason to be embarrassed, we're all there doing the same thing so we should be comrads. We should look out for each other and assist each other if needed. When the woman with all the loads was packing up her baskets getting ready to leave I nudged my husband and indicated he should offer to help her out - she had about 5 baskets loaded to the brim and was all by herself. He could have held the door for her if nothing else. He did offer, but she politely refused the gesture. Eventually we were left alone which was a bit of a relief, I'm not very comfortable engaging strangers in random conversation but at the same time I feel rude to ingore them.
The next day we did get a professional out to the house and he found something very interesting that had caused the dryer malfunction. Apparently I was not paying attention when changing the loads out - I had taken the lint trap out to clean it and had set it aside while I loaded the dryer. I do this all the time, it's my routine. I wait until the clothes are all loaded in before returning the lint trap to it's home, I don't know why, it's just what I do. Well....I guess I should have been focusing a little better because the maintenance man found one of my socks had fallen into the trap and I had unwittingly crammed it down into the machine when I put the lint trap back into position. How the hell I managed to do this is beyond me but when he pulled out the culpret it was clear that the dryer had broken down due to user error and not excess use this time.
Thankfully the price to fix the problem was relatively cheap compared to what we had anticipated paying on Sunday night. We also found a great company who came out quickly and fixes all sorts of appliances - just in case my beloved dishwasher decides to bite the dust we know who to call. And lessoned learned - after cleaning the lint trap it must be returned prior to loading the clothes.
When I moved out on my own I had to make regular weekly trips to the coin laundry, because honestly what 20-something can afford to buy their own washing and drying machines? So every week I'd gather my wads of change, geared with at least one magazine but preferably a good book and haul my load up to the laundrymat . There's nothing more boring than sitting at the laundrymat watching clothes spin and dry for hours that never seem to end.
There's a certain etiquette one must follow while withering the time away watching the spin cycle. You must make sure to give your fellow coin droppers a wide berth so as to allow plenty of space to spread out and fold their piles of personals. You'll need to give yourself a good 5 to 10 minutes of adjusting to the atmosphere before enganging your neighbor with polite conversation. You don't want to startle anyone. Everyone is slightly on edge, keeping an eye on their things and vying for positioning, so just give yourself a few moments to spot the Omega before cramming your way in there.
By the time I was married I had officially graduated from the coin laundry to my very own in home washer and dryer. My first house was rather small so we had to use the "apartment" size machines - you know the type? The washer is on the bottom and the dryer is attached to the top so it fits into a small space? It was a good machine and I was very grateful to have it. It's the same thing when you've spent your whole life washing dishes by hand and then finally get a dishwasher. Oh it's fabulous! Have you experienced this little life pleasure? I don't think I can ever go back to washing my dishes by hand, now that I've been spoiled with the dishwasher's ease of use and delightful ability to allow me the time to accomplish other chores while it works it's wonders. Right now for instance - the dishwasher is gently running it's cycle while I write this blog. My hands are not dried out nor slighly burned from the hot water and my nails are not chipping. And I have time to write which is clearly the best part.
Unfortunately machines are just machines and they are subject to breaking down from time to time. Sometimes they break down due to user error (like the time I forgot to empty the lint trap and it got all clogged up), and sometimes they break down due to age and excess use. Machines need regular maintenance and without this they tend to get crabby and break down. Thankfully I have a husband who can fix just about anything that needs fixing around the house. He's quite handy to have around. I'm not sure what I would do without him...Probably end up living in squalor with broken light bulbs, spazzing smoke detectors and chipping paint at every turn. So it goes without saying that when our dryer recently took a crap and died I was sure that my husband would be able to take the machine apart, figure out the problem and have it fixed before dinner. No such luck.
We were right in the middle of cooking a nice Sunday dinner of home made spinach pie with rice pilaf when the proverbial shit hit the fan. Spinach pie is not a highly complicated dish but it is rather time consuming to prepare with several components. It's not a meal we make regularly but its one of my husband's favorites and one of the few meals he likes to make by himself (or at least be a major part of), he had been craving it for a couple weeks so he was really excited to make it on Sunday. While he was chopping and sauteing the onion I was doing some sous chef work for him (prepping the cooking utensils, melting the butter, rinsing the spinach etc.) and at the same time I was getting the laundry started, I was rushing to get the first load from the washer into the dryer and the next load into the washer so I could return to my aforementioned kitchen duties before something tragic could happen. My husband doesn't spend a great deal of time in the kitchen so I like to keep an eye on him if he's cooking dinner...Just in case. He had started laying the filo dough in the pan and spreading the melted butter over top when we both heard a horrible sound coming from the laundry room. It was a low groaning sound that made us both look up from our work in confused horror. Something was clearly not right and since we were both covered in melted butter and feta cheese it was obviously not the sound either of us wanted to hear.
The dryer had stopped on it's own. It sounded like the motor kicked the bucket, I was afraid to try and check the problem out myself for the same reason I am afraid to leave my husband alone in the kitchen; with my luck a fire would have started. So we set dinner aside and went to check out the problem together. He pulled the machine out and tried to take it apart to find the cause of the problem. While he worked on that I returned to the kitchen to finish spreading the filo dough before it dried out. I knew we were in for a long night when I heard the following two phrases coming from the laundry room: "Oh come on!" and then: "Motherfucker!" Whenever those words are uttered while he is trying to fix something I know there is a major problem. He returned to the kitchen looking mildly defeated as it's not often there's a problem he can't fix. And then he said it, the 7 words no one wants to hear: "We have to go to the laundrymat." Ugh. Not at all what I was hoping to hear at that moment. He explained that he didn't have the right tools to open up the machine and he didn't want to break it so he wanted to call in a professional. But who can you get to come fix a dryer on a Sunday night? No one. We even reconciled ourselves to paying an arm and a leg to get someone out there that night but no one was available. Most places weren't even open let alone available and so we had to make peace with the fact that we would be spending our Sunday evening at the damn coin laundry.
Dinner came first however. There was no way that we were going to let all that hard work and delicious food go to waste, so we finished cooking the pie and pilaf and enjoyed a scrumptious dinner. Thankfully I had already put two loads into the wash so we only had one load left to wash while the other two dried so it wasn't like we had to spend several hours at the laundrymat, it was only about an hour and a half or so. I brought my book and my husband was delighted to spend his time getting the high scores on an old Centapede and Ms. Pacman arcade game. There weren't very many people there when we arrived; one woman drying a comforter who claimed she only goes to the laundrymat for this reason as if she had to justify why she was there to the rest of us patrons, and another woman who was doing about 20 loads for what appeard to be an entire litter of children (although she probably only had a couple kids, but we all know how kids clothes tend to pile up like Mt. Rushmore when we aren't looking), she too felt the need to explain why she was there - her dryer was on the fritz as well. I'm not sure why we feel the need to explain ourselves to the other coin laundry goers, it's as if we are embarrssed by being there. Honestly there is no reason to be embarrassed, we're all there doing the same thing so we should be comrads. We should look out for each other and assist each other if needed. When the woman with all the loads was packing up her baskets getting ready to leave I nudged my husband and indicated he should offer to help her out - she had about 5 baskets loaded to the brim and was all by herself. He could have held the door for her if nothing else. He did offer, but she politely refused the gesture. Eventually we were left alone which was a bit of a relief, I'm not very comfortable engaging strangers in random conversation but at the same time I feel rude to ingore them.
The next day we did get a professional out to the house and he found something very interesting that had caused the dryer malfunction. Apparently I was not paying attention when changing the loads out - I had taken the lint trap out to clean it and had set it aside while I loaded the dryer. I do this all the time, it's my routine. I wait until the clothes are all loaded in before returning the lint trap to it's home, I don't know why, it's just what I do. Well....I guess I should have been focusing a little better because the maintenance man found one of my socks had fallen into the trap and I had unwittingly crammed it down into the machine when I put the lint trap back into position. How the hell I managed to do this is beyond me but when he pulled out the culpret it was clear that the dryer had broken down due to user error and not excess use this time.
Thankfully the price to fix the problem was relatively cheap compared to what we had anticipated paying on Sunday night. We also found a great company who came out quickly and fixes all sorts of appliances - just in case my beloved dishwasher decides to bite the dust we know who to call. And lessoned learned - after cleaning the lint trap it must be returned prior to loading the clothes.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Jackie Blue
Something strange happened this week. I suddenly realized that I am a full time employed, tax paying, good credit having contributing member of society. Where did this person come from? And you know what is even stranger? I almost feel guilty about it. Actually I do feel a little guilty about it. We live in such dire times and so many of us have been struggling to get through that I do feel a bit guilty that I'm in a good position right now.
I did not stumble upon this situation easily or quickly. I feel like I've been spending years and years working towards being this person but never really allowing myself to realize that I reached my goal. The only thing I can relate this feeling with is the change between my Sophmore and Junior years of highschool. My Freshman year was a throwaway year - I struggled adjusting to the new surroundings, new faces, new schedules and it took a while to get my footing. My grades reflected as much. This is probably a common theme for many, I certainly hope I'm not alone here.
By Sophmore year I was pretty comfortable but found myself worried about being judged for who I thought I was. My head was too fogged up with what every one else was thinking or doing that I forgot how to have fun. Sometime between the awkward first years of highschool I had an epiphany and by my Junior year I had come full circle back to the girl who didn't give a shit. It was as if I had to lumber through those couple years making mistakes to get my footing right and start marching forward.
Like many of you I spent my twenties having a really fantastic time. I was able to experience a lot of things that helped to shape who I am. But I also had to make plenty of mistakes along the way and I've been paying for them in one way or another for a while now. But I understand what things I did back then and how to turn it around now. My focus falters from time to time so I'm very grateful to have a wonderful husband who very rarely loses his center. We really compliment each other well in that way I think. He is very driven and goal oriented and I am the complete opposite, I'm dreamy and wishy-washy. He helps keep me grounded and I give him wings to be silly.
So we've been working at it. We've been working together focused on our future and what we have to do in order to ensure stability. It's not that fun; there are no vacations or dinner/movie dates, no shopping sprees or large purchases of any sort. We're what you might call frugal. But I suddenly feel like I can see light at the end of the tunnel and it's a good feeling. For the longest time we couldn't finance a gumball, but today we bought a new car. A new car - not a used/pre-owned car. It's not like it was anything very expensive and my husband gets a fantastic company discount so it was even cheaper than we thought. That's not the point though. I am now a "finance-able" person. (Is that a word?) Holy shit, when did that happen?
It happened when I wasn't looking or paying attention. I've been so used to feeling like a loser, actually pretty comfortable being mediocre, that it came as a shock that I've morphed beyond that person. It's pretty sweet. And now that I have tasted some of the results of our hard work I am more invested in keeping our current plan going. There's still work to be done, I'm not quite where I want to be yet but I'm pretty happy thus far.
Those of you who are in the Mortgage business will understand this - my goal is to be A-paper and everything that that implies. I want the credit score, the income, the reserves and the damn equity. I'm so close. It's crazy to think about it. It's crazy to me that I canbe am that person.
Because it's so unfathomable to me, I do have this bizarre sense of guilt. I don't know if it's a feeling of abandoning my fellow American's in strife or a sense that this good fortune would be better bestowed on some other more deserving soul. I don't know. Maybe I just need time to marinate on my new identity and get comfortable with it.
Regardless - I bought a new car today. Her name is Jackie Blue and she is awesome.
I did not stumble upon this situation easily or quickly. I feel like I've been spending years and years working towards being this person but never really allowing myself to realize that I reached my goal. The only thing I can relate this feeling with is the change between my Sophmore and Junior years of highschool. My Freshman year was a throwaway year - I struggled adjusting to the new surroundings, new faces, new schedules and it took a while to get my footing. My grades reflected as much. This is probably a common theme for many, I certainly hope I'm not alone here.
By Sophmore year I was pretty comfortable but found myself worried about being judged for who I thought I was. My head was too fogged up with what every one else was thinking or doing that I forgot how to have fun. Sometime between the awkward first years of highschool I had an epiphany and by my Junior year I had come full circle back to the girl who didn't give a shit. It was as if I had to lumber through those couple years making mistakes to get my footing right and start marching forward.
Like many of you I spent my twenties having a really fantastic time. I was able to experience a lot of things that helped to shape who I am. But I also had to make plenty of mistakes along the way and I've been paying for them in one way or another for a while now. But I understand what things I did back then and how to turn it around now. My focus falters from time to time so I'm very grateful to have a wonderful husband who very rarely loses his center. We really compliment each other well in that way I think. He is very driven and goal oriented and I am the complete opposite, I'm dreamy and wishy-washy. He helps keep me grounded and I give him wings to be silly.
So we've been working at it. We've been working together focused on our future and what we have to do in order to ensure stability. It's not that fun; there are no vacations or dinner/movie dates, no shopping sprees or large purchases of any sort. We're what you might call frugal. But I suddenly feel like I can see light at the end of the tunnel and it's a good feeling. For the longest time we couldn't finance a gumball, but today we bought a new car. A new car - not a used/pre-owned car. It's not like it was anything very expensive and my husband gets a fantastic company discount so it was even cheaper than we thought. That's not the point though. I am now a "finance-able" person. (Is that a word?) Holy shit, when did that happen?
It happened when I wasn't looking or paying attention. I've been so used to feeling like a loser, actually pretty comfortable being mediocre, that it came as a shock that I've morphed beyond that person. It's pretty sweet. And now that I have tasted some of the results of our hard work I am more invested in keeping our current plan going. There's still work to be done, I'm not quite where I want to be yet but I'm pretty happy thus far.
Those of you who are in the Mortgage business will understand this - my goal is to be A-paper and everything that that implies. I want the credit score, the income, the reserves and the damn equity. I'm so close. It's crazy to think about it. It's crazy to me that I can
Because it's so unfathomable to me, I do have this bizarre sense of guilt. I don't know if it's a feeling of abandoning my fellow American's in strife or a sense that this good fortune would be better bestowed on some other more deserving soul. I don't know. Maybe I just need time to marinate on my new identity and get comfortable with it.
Regardless - I bought a new car today. Her name is Jackie Blue and she is awesome.
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