You know what's so annoying about being ridiculously wealthy? Personal maids, for starters. That, and stupid butlers who're constantly trying to make breakfast and bring it to you in bed. And don't even get me started on personal trainers. Who wants someone carefully mapping out every, single step they need to take, in order to shed the remaining ounces of baby fat from their perfectly-sculpted waist? A hassle, all of it. That's why Husband and I have decided to be poor. No one tries to dress you in the morning, and we're luckily spared from having to berate our staff, on the front lawn, because SOMEONE didn't trim the hedges to represent Stonehenge just the way we like it. And now, because we like being poor so much, we've decided to become poorer-er....er?
When I was young, I used to dream of being in the circus, which has absolutely nothing to do with this post, I just wanted to share that. As I got older, my ambitions began to mold themselves to resemble every other person on the planet. I wanted to make money, climb the corporate ladder, own a Lexus I could spill coffee in, because I'd have enough money to have it detailed every week. And then, I was introduced to my good friend...
Readers, many of you don't know this, but Yours Truly is somewhat of an insurance buff. For the last five years, I've worked as a cubicle jockey, assessing homes, explaining coverages and being the name at the bottom of the letter telling you we can't insure your house anymore. I'm loved by many, hated by many more who don't know me.
At any rate, the biz has finally taken its toll, and as Husband an I have become trains passing in the night, we've decided to do a frightening thing and quit my job. For those of you who do poor people math rather quickly, yes...this leaves us with one and only one income. Du du Duuuuuuummm...
How will we do it? No idea. I've had to don the "Betty Budget" cap and rub some brain cells together, and brainstorm ways to save money. So far, this is what I've come up with:
1.) Call and tell Franz I won't be making it for my thrice-weekly scalp, hand and body massage.
2.) Cancel my subscription to "Stiletto of the Month" club.
3.) Discontinue service with personal Bon Bon feeder.
4.) Learn how to make my own toilet paper
5.) Buy a cow
6.) Google "how to milk a cow"
7.) Make my own cleaning products
8.) Google "how to make your own cleaning products without accidentally creating a meth lab"
9.) Stop shaving and buying razors
10.) Make sign to hang around my neck stating, in colored marker, "I'm not Sasquatch, so stop sending Monster Quest to my house."
Anyhow, that's all I've got for right now. It's gonna be tough, but I think we'll pull through. Stay with us Readers, it should be interesting. In the meantime, I'm going to shut-off the electricity and attempt candle-making with a tin can and some left-over grease...
Until Next Time Readers!