It would seem reasonable to assume that when one goes from living in a truck to a home that one would have more moola floating around. There is more moola around, it is just in the walls and not in my wallet.

I’m okay with that but my habits are not. See, it isn’t as much fun to be The Budget Buster when you are busting your own budget. You have the Ha-ahh! moment of being the rebel hero followed by an Oi-owww! moment when you realize that you’ve cut into your own coffee money for the next week. And as we all know that I’m coming to terms with my addiction, it is a painful realization.

Is this what living with an accountant does to a former free-living gypsyesque individual? Does the accountant persona seep into your thought process by osmosis? Isn’t there an antibiotic for that? I feel like I read something about that somewhere in my textbooks. Wait, and I’ll go check…

Ach, no, I was thinking of osteoporosis, not osmosis, and they really don’t even have very good medications for that either. Blast.

Thankfully, it is quite fun to get a 6-pack and open a few at home rather than paying the same price for one drink in a loud and crowded bar. Plus, no one looks at me funny when I pull out my knitting while talking and drinking beer in my own home. At least, no one does it when I’m looking.

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