It’s 6pm on a Wednesday. This time last spring, we’d be hurriedly eating dinner after working long days and rushing off to our adult small group. I’d feel frazzled and pulled in a million directions – busy and tired from working two jobs and filling my free time with great things: music and people.
But, alas, it’s 6pm on a Wednesday in the summer. It’s hot inside, but too hot outside and not breezy enough to open the windows, so I’m sitting at the computer sweating in shorts and a tee shirt. Poor Jacob is hiding upstairs in our bedroom – the one room in which we can enjoy the AC, thanks to the window unit we broke down and purchased at the end of last summer. We’ve worked long days, prepped food for dinner and have nowhere to rush off to next, so we’re enjoying the quiet opportunity to rest.
Jacob and I are trying to discipline ourselves with our money in this season. It seems as if we say this every month, but about halfway through the month we realize we’ve changed nothing about the ways we handle our money.
We’re seriously grateful to have two jobs that provide for us comfortably. We are never without what we need – food, shelter, water, clothes – nor without what we think we need, but don’t need at all – AC, food that tastes delicious and meets our cravings, entertainment, trinkets that we forget we even bought, more clothes to add to overflowing closets, etc. But somehow we always feel the need for more. I want more decorations for our home. More books. More clothes I feel good about myself wearing. More food. More food that is prepared for us instead of made at home. More video games. More plants (WHAT is with this plant craze?! I’ve totally fallen right in.) More of anything and everything. More.
So tonight we’re eating at home – a meal I actually planned (gasp) and requires actual preparation (I marinated the meat this morning). It’s a little fancy (ahem, steak kabobs and veggies), so I think it cost about $12 for us both to eat. I’m going to go watch Jacob cook it all on the grill while the rice cooks itself on the stove and pat myself on the back because we didn’t eat out at Not Your Average Joe’s tonight instead.