When The Old Maid Is On A Budget

I keep getting sucked into spending money. Like the $90 I spent on Mary Kay products when I swore I just wanted a $15 tube of eye cream. But I justified the expenditure by deciding that taking care of myself just a little bit each day would make me feel better, hence I’d be more industrious. To quote one of the ladies on my Meals On Wheels route, “You can’t give out cookies if your cookie jar is empty.”

And, actually, I was feeling better by using my Mary Kay face wash, Mary Kay lotion, Mary Kay foundation, and (free!) Mary Kay mascara. “You have such wonderful coloring; that’s all you’d need!” claimed the consultant/devil. I felt polished and put-together and productive. I have been attacking my errands with gusto, and have spent the last few weeks doing all the chores around the house that I’ve heretofore found reasons to ignore. I felt great all the way up until the day that, freshly made-up and powering through my day, I had an acquaintance eye me sympathetically and say, “You look pale. Have you been sick?”

So much for my great coloring, Mary Kay bitch.

Still, I am trying to take steps to improve my well-being. Which is why I also allowed myself to get suckered into signing up for a year of chiropractic treatments. Because – pathetic as it may sound – my back has killed me since puberty, and now the entire left side of my body has started to hurt. All the time. And I have a very real and probably not-unfounded fear of being one of those old ladies with a humpback. So, when the chiropractor took x-rays and found that the alignment of my neck vertebrae is ‘not good’ (as he so reassuringly put it), I decided this was another chance to take care of myself.

I’ve been going to the doctor now for a month, and I feel so much better already. I no longer wake up at three in the morning with my back screaming! Naturally – being me – rather than just be happy about this fact, I’d rather be angry that it took me so long to do something about the pain.

I am, however, happy enough with my improved health to not be too worried about some of the advice the chiropractor gives me. For instance, when I told him I had to stop jogging because my knee started hurting, and that the knee flared up again last week when I tried a short run, what do you suppose his advice was? To jog. But it’s OK, I love him any way: I’m the type of person that enjoys cracking my knuckles, so imagine how released I feel after my whole body’s been popped.

That’s what she said.

(Sorry, Bee and I are still watching The Office.)

But now I must budget for the extra expense of chiropractic appointments. And, while this budgeting is a good thing, I get tired of it being such a constant thing. Every time I feel I have a handle on it, and we find a way to save a little bit of money, something happens to suck it away. Bee was able to lower our monthly mortgage amount; but then our health insurance went up. The rental house’s monthly property tax and insurance bills went down (by a whole $30!); then . . . well, you know what happened.

Bill-cutting ‘advice’ articles tend not to apply to us, since Bee and I rarely dine out and aren’t addicted to Starbucks. We heat the house with a wood stove, we pay off our credit cards every month, and we lump our errands so we’re not driving all over town. We don’t have cell phones or even basic cable, for God’s sake; we’re practically Amish!

Still, there are ways I know we (and by ‘we’, I mean ‘I’) can spend less money. For instance, I can stop finding a reason to go to the grocery store twice a week, and we can eat every single last thing in the house before our next trip. Yes, even the can of beans that no one remembers acquiring and that expired two years ago (not that I’d let such a petty detail get in my way, anyway). I can stay away from those damn, seductive thrift stores. And I can save the gas money I’d otherwise have spent driving to my parents’ just for fun. (Yes, that makes me a terrible mother to their grandchild, but my mom and dad are used to that.)

I may occasionally fall off the wagon (damn Mary Kay Timewise product line!), but I really am trying to budget! I am! Even before the latest rental house debacle, I was watching my spending. Take last month, for example:

I met some of my former co-workers at Applebee’s so we could eat good in the neighborhood. Having already had dinner, we were just going for dessert (more budget-conscious!) and gossip. As the evening progressed, one of the ladies mentioned that the Chippendale revue was coming to town, and wondered if anyone wanted to make it next month’s Girls’ Night Out.

Despite the fact that every lady in the audience gets a single red rose, I knew – in my heart of hearts – that I would not be amongst them. Because I was On A Budget. And I could either go to the show, or I could get one more month of chiropractic appointments.

And then I was struck by how pathetic it was that I was actually picking a chiropractor over a bunch of men in banana slings.

That’s how old I am.