- My kids are on their own for college. Their asses better have scholarships, and they’re going to have to suck it up and take out student loans, and get jobs, and live in hellholes, and eat ketchup and spam.
- Retirement? Retirement? Retirement?
- Really? Retirement?
- I’m not buying an SUV because I can’t afford one. Period. I can’t afford to make repairs to my already-paid-for little bitty car. I can’t afford to put cheap gas in it. I’m going to drive it until it blows up. And in that event, I’ll either be riding my bike or driving my husband to work. I have a feeling we’re not the only Americans in this situation; giving $50 billion dollars to the automobile industry is not going to bring back all the broke-ass customers they lost in the first place.
- It makes absolutely no financial sense right now for me to go to work, only to fork over twice my paycheck on daycare.
- I’ve never been concerned with getting my nails done or my hair professionally cut or anything like that. And I’ll take that a step further: when you’ve got only so much to spend at the grocery store, and it comes down to spending $6 on Cheerios and bananas for your kids’ breakfast or $6 on razors, guess what? You have hairy legs for a couple more weeks.
- Who the hell buys a five-hundred dollar purse? Ever? (Even when the economy wasn’t in the shitter?) The priciest purse I’ve ever owned was $30.00 at Steinmart, and that was a gift from my mother. Now, I look longingly at the $14.74 Walmart variety. And then I walk away. I don’t even bother going to the mall anymore. I imagine a lot of people doing the same thing, thus helping to make everything worse, but what are we supposed to do?
- The dog we just adopted? Well, yes, that was our bad. Keeping this new dog wasn’t the smartest thing we’ve ever done. We can’t really do the vet thing when we’re still working on paying off Merrick’s little trip to the hospital. Most people are getting rid of their pets–which, coincidentally, is exactly where I think our new dog came from. I can’t imagine having to do this, but I won’t say we’ll never be in that position.
When Cheyenne was a baby, I sold my own plasma for grocery money, pawned jewelry to pay rent, and paid for her Christmas pictures in rolls of pennies. I don’t want to go back to those days, but I’m proud at how thrifty I’ve become. I’m amazed at what I can get for my money, even though food costs have just about doubled in the last 2 years. Lentil soup is cheap to make and it lasts forever. Chicken legs costs a small fraction of what skinless, boneless chicken breasts cost; and it’s still chicken and it’s still healthy. Frozen ground turkey instead of fresh ground beef, $1.50 per pound vs. $3.00, and that makes a huge difference when you tend to buy a lot. Spinach leaves vs. baby spinach leaves. Brown rice in bulk. Spagetti. Chili. Generic brand everything. And if we’ve got to give up our cheap, watery beer so that the girls can have fresh fruit, so be it. Sigh.
I’m not bringing all this up to complain. Making these small sacrifices makes me feel like a responsible adult, but I am by no means deprived. Tough times can’t last forever, and even if they do last for a while, I’ve got my husband and we’ve got our kids, and we’ll do what we have to do, and go where we have to go. No biggie.
I just wish the decision makers in Washington would get a clue.