That money talks, I’ll not deny,
I heard it once, it said “goodbye.”
Money is not a big deal to me, insofar as I don’t measure my worth or anyone else’s by how much of it they have, and I don’t need a lot. I live in a small house and I drive a moderate car. I still have and use every pocketbook I’ve bought since 1996 or so.
Making my budget is a big deal to me, though, and I spend several hours a day at the beginning of each year parceling it all out for the coming year so I can see where I’m going in the next twelve months.
But you know, a million things could happen. I don’t really know what’s going to happen, and best laid plans and all that.
This time last year, I knew I was going to Italy in a few months.
I did not know that I would have the opportunity to buy some property that I dearly wanted, or that through a series of events, planned and unplanned, I would be able to do it, realizing a 25-year-old pipe dream.
I do know, though, that had I not been making a budget every year since 2006 and following it pretty closely, I would have been waving at that opportunity from a distance.
The actual truth is I kinda suck with money. Which is why I have to write it down on paper and look at it two days before every payday.
Lots of people make budgets, so it’s not like I came up with some brilliant plan.
My budget is extremely simple and only tracks net income and outgo in rounded amounts; it does not account for interest accrued or points for using one method of payment over another, and it doesn’t count savings or retirement. It merely tells me how much money I have and how much I’ll have left over after bills.
An accountant would snort if he saw it.
But. I have made my budget for 2013. I’m feeling very accomplished. And poor.