Almost New Year’s Resolutions

How are you doing on your New Year’s Resolutions?  I read an article last month that said January 21st was the most depressing day of the year for many people because that’s when they assess how well they’ve stuck to their resolutions.  For me and Mr. Dingo, January 21st was not the assessment point.  We have to reassess at the end of every single month.  Medical bills, vet bills, and the fact that I was unemployed for a few months early last year really kicked our butts.  Our resolution for this year is to get out of debt; so we came up with a plan that does not involved robbing banks or printing money to help us reach our goal.  Basically, we are in the cash only lane from this moment on.  We pay for everything with cash.  Credit cards are only for emergencies.  Emergencies are Dingo Girl going into another seizure and not a sale at DSW Shoe Warehouse.  I don’t keep cash on me either.  Loose cash is waaay too easy to spend.  I use my ATM card.  There’s something about the act of pulling the ATM card out of my wallet that really makes me think about whether my purchase is necessary.

Anyway, this morning as I was pulling on my boots getting ready to take Dingo Girl to Central Park and I was thinking about the resolution.  But first, I must digress.  Getting my boots on is a real bitch.  They don’t have that handy little loop at the back to help you pull them on.  They used to have that handy loop.  However, two days after I got them, Dingo Girl decided to chew them off.  I guess she figured the only way her mama was going to build the muscles in her T-Rex arms was to make her struggle to pull on these damn boots.  I love these boots though, even without the bootstraps.  They’re Coast Guard boots that I ordered from U.S. Calvary and they rock.  You know that nasty six inch puddle of water or slush that’s at the corner of every intersection in New York City?  The puddle bottomless pit that leaves you with the option to make like a long-jumper in the Olympics or to walk up and down the edge of the street looking for a place to cross like a cow during a cattle drive?  Well, a puddle like that is nothing to these boots.  Nothing!  These boots laugh at deep puddles, one of those long, condescending sneers like you get from the chick at Victoria’s Secret when you ask her if this comes in your size.  I just wade right on in!  I am Moses!  My feet stay dry and warm.  Out of my way, you people herding along the edge of the curb looking for a shallow spot!  Anyway, these boots are a winter staple.  I have been so impressed with them that I actually wore them to work once hoping that they would be just as effective against the piles of bullshit that I slog through every day.  No dice.  The repelling properties of my Coast Guard boots are limited to water, slush, and snow.

So as Dingo Girl and I were headed to the park I began to think about our cash crunch, luxuries, necessities, and all kinds of things associated with altering our lifestyle for the foreseeable future.  And you know what I came up with?  I have everything I need to be happy.  I couldn’t always say that.  A few years ago, I was a mess.  Rock bottom.  That’s a lifetime ago and definitely a post for another day.  But today, this other life, the things that make me happy aren’t money or anything to do with money.  Don’t get me wrong, if I suddenly found five million dollars in my checking account like this guy did, I would seriously think about a Swiss bank account and a well-appointed hut in the Caymans.  But it’s sitting up until 2am talking with Mr. Dingo about politics, movies, the latest book we’ve read, or cooking a new recipe he found that give me happiness.  It’s cold, damp, snowy days like today with Dingo Girl ecstatic about playing in the snow and her doggie friends that make me smile.  I think you would agree with me that it’s the things that you can’t stick a price tag on that make us happiest, but why is it that we always think we need so much? 

Watching Dingo Girl play in the park knowing that Mr. Dingo would probably have a fire in the fireplace by the time we got home cold and shivering, anticipating a day of reading on the couch and perhaps writing the next chapter of my novel make me feel like the richest woman in the world.  And you can take that to the bank.