Lazy Mondays and Losing My Ambition

Mondays aren't generally my favorite day. I know, I know; that's like saying constipation isn't really my favorite feeling, or that my under-wire bra isn't the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. Unless you're in the service industry, Mondays suck. There's no denying it. But when Kyle and I both have the day off, Mondays are like a bonus Sunday, and I think everybody deserves a bonus Sunday from time to time. Yesterday, we took ours. 

Of course, it was still a Monday, and we did have one task to accomplish. Somehow, a bird found its way into my sister's apartment Sunday night. When she noticed it flying circles in her living room, she grabbed her keys — but didn't take the time to put on shoes, pants, or a bra — and fled for our house. In the morning, Kyle and I went back with her, planning to shoo her little feathered friend out with a broom, or at least dispose of the body. But there was no sign of it. However it got in, it managed to get out. (That, or it's time to have a talk with my sister about the dangers of hallucinatory drugs.)

Other than our failed bird-hunting mission, we were able to hang around the house for much of the day, just enjoying each others' company. When evening rolled around and the temperature dropped a bit, we spent some time time tending to our little container garden.

As I practiced my iPhonetography (it's getting a little better, right?) Kyle fired up the grill to make chicken wings for dinner. It might not sound like the most romantic meal, but I first developed a crush on Kyle when I watched a video of him making chicken wings.

Overall, it was a simple, wonderful day, and I want more like it. I guess lazy days wouldn't feel quite so special if I had them every day, but this one did get me thinking about why I work so much, and why I've always worked so much.

I got my first job when I was 14 so I could buy things — name-brand shampoo, Union Bay Jeans, the cool Dr. Martens my friends had but my mom couldn't buy me — and I've never really stopped (working or buying). I'd like to think my tastes have improved with age, but my spending habits haven't. And because I've never been good at managing my money, I've always felt like I needed more of it — sometimes literally to keep the lights on. Sure, I also wanted to accomplish things, and get jobs that would lead to even better jobs, and bigger salaries, and put that really expensive liberal arts degree to good use, but the more money I made, the more I would spend.

As I start to think about moving into a home where we will raise our family, I want to separate myself from so much of the "stuff" I've accumulated over the years (luckily, this Saturday is the neighborhood garage sale). I want to live more simply, spend less time working, and spend more time doing the things that make me happy with the people (and pets) I love.

For now, I'm enjoying being able to handle unexpected visits to the vet, and the fact that I'm at least financially stable enough to almost buy a home. Though it's still very small, having a little cushion in my savings account feels nice, too.

If only I'd had this realization a decade earlier.  

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Crappy Boxes, Great Prices

When I was a kid, I never wanted to go to ALDI. Ever. Shopping at ALDI always served as a reminder of just how poor we really were. And I was really, really self conscious about "looking poor."

My parents divorced when I was three, and not long after, my mom, my younger sister and I moved into a subsidized townhouse in Independence, Missouri — a suburb of Kansas City best known for Harry S. Truman and meth. For the most part, I was oblivious to the whole meth thing. Until I was 21 or so, and had lived in Brooklyn for a few years, I honestly thought that the people in Independence were skinny and had bad teeth because they were poor. (Hey, at least I didn't look that poor, right?)

Because of our economic status, I was a free-lunch kid — I hated flashing that pink punch card every day! — and we were on food stamps. I always thought that if we were going to get help buying groceries from the government, the least we could do was get them where everyone else did. ALDI didn't carry any of the brands my friends' parents used to stock their pantries... not that my mom ever stocked our pantry with the knock-off brands, either.

The worst part, I think, was that ALDI didn't even have bags; you just had to find an empty box and carry your crappy groceries to your crappy car in your crappy found box with the top cut off (probably with a crappy box cutter). When we unloaded the car at home, there would be no hiding the fact that our groceries came from ALDI.

I knew when I decided to do this frugality project that I would have to go to ALDI again. There's one five minutes from my house, and I'd heard multiple stories from friends who'd cut their grocery bills in half by shopping there. So, I decided to get it over with early.

Last Tuesday, I made my first voluntary, adult trip to ALDI. To be completely honest, at first I was self conscious, but in a very different way than when I was a kid. I was carrying my expensive blue leather tote, I didn't know how to operate the quarter deposit lock on the carts, and I appeared to be the only woman within 10 years of my age who didn't have at least two kids in tow. I felt like I didn't belong. I mean, I went into a ton of debt and made a lot of impulse purchases to get to a point where I felt like I didn't belong there anymore. But there I was, back at ALDI because I needed to be, and because I was ready to make smart decisions about my spending.

Once I focused on shopping and prices, most of my self-conscious thoughts slipped away. ALDI had some decent products at great values. I ended up with 16 items — enough food to fill at least three large crappy boxes, including sweet potatoes, apples and onions in bulk; garlic; peppers; lettuce; goat cheese; natural peanut butter; canned tomatoes; frozen berries; and organic almond milk — for $35. Other than the apples and lettuce, I'd probably buy everything there again.

For the sake of full disclosure, and the sustainability of our more ethical food systems, I will also admit that (save for the goat cheese) I decided to get my animal products at my locally-owned store. On the way home from ALDI, I stopped at Hen House for a whole chicken and a dozen eggs (both from Good Natured Family Farms) as well as quinoa and smoked Gouda (neither of which ALDI carried). My bill was $35 there, too.

Once my vegetable CSA begins in early June, and we can harvest some of the vegetables we planted last weekend, I probably won't be buying much produce from any grocery store.  I'll continue to get free-range, natural chickens and eggs (though I'll surely cut back on quantity), but I imagine I'll be making frequent trips to ALDI, too.

It really isn't that bad.

When you're a kid, shopping at "poor people places" can feel like the most embarrassing thing in the world. When you're an adult with a history of overspending on fancy cheese and olive oils, patronizing ALDI — and, in turn, not blowing an entire paycheck on food I might throw out — feels pretty damn great.

Plus, I almost always take tote bags to the grocery store with me. So no crappy boxes needed. Not that anyone would ever notice, anyway.