The Continuing Saga of Money Anxiety

In December 2019, I posted about my "hemorrhaging money" concerns of the day. It's been better since then, but the past few months have been a lot.

First, we had our porches and trim painted early in the year. It wasn't cheap, but it was necessary. 

Then there was the thing with the freeze where everyone had to make preparations and repairs. Fortunately, as far as we know, our only issues were a broken hose bib line (and do-it-myself drywall repairs) and the 500L's windshield. However, we're noticing now that our second-biggest tree in the front yard probably mostly died, as only a few leaves have popped out near the main trunk. The tree was already a hot mess, dropping giant branches every time the wind blew, ever since we lived here. Apparently, that's what chinaberry trees do. But there's a smaller one in the back yard that looks pretty dead-ish, as well. I could cut that one down myself over time; the one in the front yard is going to be expensive to remove. And we might have to pay $100 just to get a building permit to remove it! A DEAD TREE!

--Sidebar: The chinaberry also drops TONS of messy berries all over the yard and roof all seasons of the year. It rained several inches last weekend, and James and I had noticed the time before when it rained that there was water pouring out of the end of one of the gutters. This weekend, I noticed that NONE was coming out of the downspout. We decided to clear it out mid-rain because it was was supposed to continue to storm all weekend. When we work on the gutters, it's my job to clear them out, and James's to hold the ladder so I don't pull a Pappy (as me about this inside joke, if you're not familiar). I reached down and found a big muddy ball of chinaberries damming up the downspout. I pulled them out, and ALL of the water that had filled the entire gutter SHOT OUT of the downspout... slamming right into my ladder anchor, AKA James. We were in the rain anyway, but he got it a lot worse than I did. Not having that problem would be a balm to losing a mature tree from the front yard.--

James has a new hobby and has been buying tools and material for that. This is a good thing! He never had time to pursue an activity with regularity when he had to commute. Like, he could brew a beer or make some cheese every year or two, but he's getting to hone his woodworking skills most days, and that's pretty cool for him.

I bought a bunch of supplies for our future dog. Rudy had to get mouth surgery. Now Aish has some weird scabby things and is going to the vet tomorrow.

Then my camera broke. I decided not to spend too much to replace it because, geez with the spending money. I bought a much less expensive replacement. And the pictures sucked. So I bought a more expensive replacement, only soothing myself that for $300, I get a 5-year no-questions-asked replacement warranty (if I'd had one with my old camera, I could have replaced it at no cost; I had it just over 4 years when I dropped it and it landed at an awkward angle, cracking the housing... but already the LCD screen had stopped working, and there was some lining coming loose in the lens).

We had to add a rider to our homeowners insurance when I realized that our solar panels were not covered by our general policy. Our property taxes are set to go up quite a bit this year because the valuations are so much higher now that the real estate market is bonkers. It's entirely possible that our insurance is going to go up because the cost for construction materials has tripled over the past year. That means our house is likely under-insured and the provider will notice that soon, especially if the mortgage-holder points it out to them.

So.

I decided to try to be more conservative in my spending, and cut back. I informed James of the situation. I've even talked to Mal about it, because he always wants more stuff.

We were all on the same page.

Then D wanted to get a twin bed, downsizing from a queen to have more floor space. I was fortunate to find a frame and box spring on Buy Nothing, but still bought the top mattress and bedding. Last night, D requested a new desk and office chair. D has been using the computer mostly in bed for the past couple of years, and I think this will really help alleviate some neck pain. So, of course, I went out today and got those things.

The frustrating part is that I feel like James makes "enough" money that I shouldn't feel this much uncertainty. But it definitely seems like it's always something, and I wonder what we'd do if James didn't have the job he has now.

I also wonder if my preoccupation has to do with a scarcity mentality left over from genuinely not having enough to make ends meet. Regardless, I hate the feeling that money flies away, out of our control.

I've thought about money a LOT this past year, especially as the pandemic revealed and worsened the financial gaps in our society. We were definitely one of the lucky families who kept up employment and were able to stay in our house. There's no reason for this. There's no moral explanation for why a computer programmer's job is safe during a global outbreak, and a bunch of servers' jobs aren't.

When we had the porch painted, I was talking to some people from church about it, and how it was a maintenance item that ignoring would have lead to the need for more significant interventions down the road, but how guilty I felt spending what we did when some people don't have anywhere to live. Our ministry intern basically said, "The problem is a society where individuals fall through the cracks and can't get help. It's not one person's keeping up their property that means someone else gets evicted, but there's definitely something wrong when you as an individual feel like any money you spend is threatening someone else's safety."

And he's right, but he's also wrong. Money is a zero-sum game. The money I have is necessarily not had by someone else. We try to be generous, and I often struggle with feelings both that we're not doing enough to help other people, and that we really can't do any more without jeopardizing our own ability to live and react to unplanned expenses. 

This week, I've heard several things that make me realize, "Oh, yeah, we are NOT the rich people."

There was a story on Code Switch about a demand sent out by some black Vermonters last year telling their white neighbors to go ahead and start on some reparations by sending money directly to individuals' CashApp accounts (which I completely support, by the way). I loved how the notice was worded. It boiled down to, "You might think you can give $50 and not feel it, but you need to feel it. You should give enough that it impacts your own financial status." I mean, that's what wealth distribution is all about. And some people really took this seriously. One couple immediately gave away $1000 each to four different people. Then they discussed, "What does it look like if we give $20,000? Or $200,000?"

What?! One of them was in a post-graduate program! And they have $200,000 cash AT ALL, much less that they might be able to give away? Okay, no, we're NOT rich.

We couldn't afford a second home, not for vacations and not even for rental investment. Heck, we couldn't even afford another property. In fact, if we had to buy our own home today, we could not!

Oh, then I had a gentleman (the generous guy who gave me the twin box spring and frame) tell me off-handedly, "I've spent quite a bit of time in Asia, and..."

Well, unless James got transferred, we couldn't afford to spend "quite a bit of time" in Asia (though I'd certainly love to!).

A couple who is in a community group to which I belong recently sent out a picture of a trip he and his wife had taken to Botswana where you can book this experience where they set up a bed for you in the middle of the desert so you can star-gaze all night. Like they put a brass bed out there, make it up, put rugs on both sides, and cart you out there. It sounds amazing. I can't imagine how much the whole trip must cost. We're just not at a place to be able to do that, either.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. Basically, I guess, living is expensive, and we're lucky that we can scrape by, and it's not fair that some people can't while others have $150 billion. I heard someone on the radio say that they didn't believe in an all-powerful god because if there were one, it was the worst planner ever: "You get a Tesla, you get a tumor." I feel that, and I don't know what to do about it, and I guess sometimes you just have to sit with the discomfort of it.