I turn 22 today. Another year older and wiser too - right? Actually there's not really much to look forward to at age 22. Up until 21 almost every year has a perk. But 22 gets nothing. The next big one is 30, and then the middle-aged jokes begin and soon enough I'll be 40, 50 and over-the-hill.
My wife and I are definitely living under the poverty line, and each month, despite attempts at controlling the budget, we seemingly continue to fall deeper into red ink. She wanted to buy me a luxurious massage and sun glasses for my birthday, but I told her a simple massage from her would suffice. She doesn't like that. She's a gift giver. That's one of the Four Love Languages. Mine is definitely more along the lines of touch. I also firmly believe that decreased spending is more important on tackling debt than an increase in salary. That's why when my wife buys a soda to get her through the day at work I bite my tongue.
I only wish I could be happier to encourage her to quit her depressing job, without wondering how we'd get through the month.
Turning my sorry note into something happy...
A Craigo's pizza restaurant had a marquee that caught my attention. It read, "Toilet seat stolen, and the police have nothing to go on." Apparently the owner just wanted to play a practical joke. No toilet seat has actually been stolen. Guess I "closed" the lid on that problem!