For the past couple of weeks, we’ve been flat broke. I get paid fortnightly and the Mister gets his monthly. Last payday was also rent and insurance direct debit day, and my entire pay packet and then some went on all those things. Throw in no savings, no credit, the last weeks of uni (and therefore extra expenses on that front) and a certain someone being charged early for a particular order that I’ve agreed to let rest, and you have a recipe for disaster.
Luckily we had no other bills waiting and I had enough tram tickets to cover me until Wednesday. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to Wednesday. There will be takeout Indian. And a film. And a long, long, long overdue haircut. And some ordering of Christmas gifts. And maybe a trip to the fabric shop.
It’s times like these that I’m very happy that I a) know how to cook and b) enjoy doing it. It’s never fun walking to the shops with your last $4.50 and trying to figure out what to eat for several meals. I’ve been writing the days on our blackboard in the kitchen and rubbing them off one by one as we make it through…
But looking at the meals we’ve eaten, you wouldn’t know any of this. And that makes me strangely proud.