The "B" word

I hope you are all seated while you are reading this, if not, sit down- and what the hell are you doing reading standing anyway? If you’re on the treadmill you are an overachieving b*&%$ and we can no longer be friends. Beginning January 1, 2008 I was placed, involuntarily, on a (dramatic gasp with back of hand placed gently to forehead) BUDGET! What has my life come to? For the last two years I have been living the good life, hanging out with my little best friend, doing whatever we please. I try to watch my spending but sometimes I get carried away. I never dreamed that this would lead my usually loving husband to take such drastic measures. I purposely passed over potential suitors that had a high probability of being unable to afford me. Assisting a muscle bound fireman with his hose or corrupting a man of the cloth sounded exhilarating but I knew that excitement would wear off quickly after a couple of romantic ramen noodle dinners. It’s not that I need a lot of fancy things or designer clothes; I just require a lot of upkeep. Michael doesn’t understand that this “look” does not happen by accident. Michael thinks that Wal-Mart is truly one stop shopping, I do not. I’ve managed (because I am so creative) to convince him that I am severely allergic to Wal-Mart bras and panties but he may get suspicious if I claim to be allergic to Wal-Mart make-up as well. How am I supposed to convince a man who pays $7 for a haircut that his budget needs to allow $100 for mine every 6 weeks? This budget is making me crankier than dieting during my time of the month. We are each allowed $200 dollars a month to spend on whatever we please. Initially I thought this would be a piece of cake assuming there would be a separate fund for hair, makeup, eating out, shoes and clothes. I mean those aren’t things that I can help, that is just general upkeep. I was wrong. So after purchasing a dress to attend Michael’s Christmas party (which in all honesty I did not even care to attend) I barely had any money left. This is a sad state of affairs. I am being forced into caffeine withdrawals as I am unable to make my usual trips to Starbucks, I’m hungry because I cannot stomach frozen entrees or leftovers, and my roots are showing. Have pity on me. I am relatively certain this is all part of his plan to force me back into employment. I will show him though, I can tough this out. I will just have to start selling his stuff on Ebay for extra cash, perhaps then he will consider adding more categories to his budget.