“I’m proud of you,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“For what?” I asked.

This week has been a tough one for me. There’s been no big, specific reason. Several small reasons. I’ve been feeling very tired.

Before I dive in, I want to preface this by saying that I realize that I am much better off than many others. I realize that I chose a difficult path and that I’m privileged to have been able to make that choice. I don’t think this precludes me from feeling down and out sometimes.

I literally took this at my desk as I was reading spreadsheets and paying bills. Selfie O’Stress.

I’ve been very worried about income this week. Although my personal training at my “main” job has increased dramatically, they don’t charge very much and thus my commission isn’t very large. Although I increased PT by over 200%, it wasn’t a huge jump up in income for me. However, it was enough that I was starting to think that I might be at ‘normal’ income levels. Then I was told by my other job that they’re doing some restructuring because they have purchased a new facility and ‘a lot of the trainers’ schedules are changing.’ I was never full time there, obviously because of Main Job, but was consistently on the schedule for five, at minimum three, classes a week. Until last week. The schedule was taken over by someone else who told me not to ‘be alarmed’ if I wasn’t on the schedule as much in the coming ‘weeks/months.’ Weeks/Months? When your job suddenly becomes non-existent, are you allowed to be ‘not alarmed’? I want to be clear that nothing was ever said about my performance and I have not been outright let-go. It’s almost like a bizarre, passive-aggressive, phasing out because I didn’t become full time.

I do have another job with a start up, but… it’s just starting up, as in, the company is a start up. I have one class a week. It’s so new that I haven’t received my first paycheck yet. And I just got hired on as a personal trainer at another, a university research study that sounds really interesting. Yet, because it’s a research study, the start date is very nebulous.

When Dean and I got married, even before we got married, it was clear that I would be the one managing the finances. I already had spreadsheets going, I had been through ebbs and flows for years and managed to keep the bills paid, avoid starvation and still have some money left over for fun. I have known that we were going to move for years. I have carefully prepared for this. It is still incredibly stressful, and at times, downright daunting.

We sold the condo in Chicago (at a loss, although I had lived there ten years and the neighborhood rents have skyrocketed, but … Chicago) and put half of that money into a money market, half into a CD with the hope that when we’re ready to buy here, we’ll have a down payment. The money market half was in case we really screwed up and needed to start pulling from that stash to keep ourselves afloat. I had been meticulous in the few years coming up to the move to make sure that we had some savings accrued for moving and getting a vehicle. So far, like a pilot pulling out of a nosedive, we’ve avoided having to pull from the condo stash. Aside from once, and I was able to refund it later, after our fire insurance money came in. (Like a pilot pulling out of a nosedive over the ocean that gets just a little bit wet.) We pretend that money doesn’t exist.

Then my grandma passed away and left me an unexpected inheritance. I know a lot of the artistic types out there will hear me when I say that our predilection doesn’t necessarily lend itself to the accumulation of 401ks and IRAs. We have to consciously scrimp for that security. My plan was to put most of this gift into savings.

Here’s the thing, investment terrifies me. I don’t know why. Opening that new account, giving them my money… it’s just downright scary! (Here’s your Halloween post. Spooky mutual funds!) I’ve talked to experts, I’ve talked to friends who are also experts, I’ve talked to family, I’ve decided what I want to do … I just need to pull the trigger. In the meantime…

A picture of Grandma that I took when she wasn’t looking. This was in July 2018.

There is a part of me that wished grandma had spent this money when she was around. That she would have come to visit more when she was still able to travel, or that she would have even traveled herself more. Gone on a trip with her daughters. Anything. Flown us grand-kids up when we were broke and made us do chores. Although she had a couple of grand-kids close that probably did that. I guess I just wish I could give it back for more time with her.

But I can’t.

So. I went on my own trip. I went to a Writer’s Conference that I thought was out of my league, but I knew the content was good and valuable and I would be pursuing a dream. I got a hotel close to the conference so that I could walk to it. I had an amazing time. It was literally, not figuratively, the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in by myself. I took advantage of every part of it. I squeezed the juice out of that hotel and conference experience. I worked hard and I played hard. I thought, cool.. Good… I’ve honored that part. Save the rest.

I don’t know why I’m so terrified of failing. Of not being able to support myself. I’ve been in tough spots before. The most recent was in Chicago about a year before we left. About five of my classes were cut overnight with no warning. Classes that I thought were solid and had good attendance. I remember having to cut off my contribution to our joint savings for a while and apologizing to Dean and telling him that I wasn’t expecting him to take care of me. That I would figure this out. (At the time, I was subbing like crazy, anywhere, to get money and taking an online course in Business Marketing provided as a benefit by Dean’s work because, if I’m not working that often, I can at least be earning an associates degree.) Dean said, “I’ve never been worried about you making money.”

I said, “What?”

He said, “I’ve never been worried about it. I’m never worried that you won’t make money.”

Wow. Then why am I so worried? But I still am.

I will spend money on myself when I need to. I will take myself to the dentist. I will go to the doctor or physical therapist if something is wrong. I need my body for my vocation. It’s not something I can have fail me. I will buy food. I will buy wine. Going out, not often. I’ll buy things if I’m out with a friend and I’ll buy things if friends invite us over. That’s common decency. If you can’t do that, don’t go out, don’t go over. And I’ve done that too. I stay in a lot and I don’t mind. I don’t buy clothes. I take care of mine, they last a long time. Running shoes, I will buy. But less than I should. I actually should probably replace these ones after this next half marathon. I will buy education. That’s an investment and something I need to keep up my continuing education. And I like learning.

I have no problem spending on people I love. Our neighbor found something on eBay that I thought would be great for a family member’s Christmas present. I couldn’t believe he had found it, I was high on emotion and told him to get it! I beat myself up a bit afterward when I did the math and saw how much I had paid. But it’s okay, it will make someone else happy. When people come over, I cannot stop myself from offering them everything available. Food, drink, it’s almost annoying. I see myself doing it. “Are you hungry? I could steam some veggies and get us some hummus! We have these chips! Do you need more wine?” I recognize this in myself, and I cannot stop. In the moment, it feels right. Even when I’m at my own birthday party, I have a very difficult time not hosting. I want everyone to be having a good time. I had one party where some very caring friends kept making me sit down and talk to people, asking what needed to be done and then doing it. It’s only happened the one time. It was great, but also so difficult.

While I was waiting for students to show up at my start up class, I took a picture of the sunset. Of course. The sunsets are breathtaking.

There is a part of me that thinks maybe I like it this way. There’s another part that feels like I’ve developed a compensation and I do this because it has become the easiest. If you’re in the fitness field, you’ll be aware that people will develop physical compensations for a variety of reasons, developmental abnormalities, injuries, weak areas, overuse compensations, etc. When you try and get them to do certain movements the correct way, they resist. It’s much easier for them to do it the way they’ve been doing it. They can lift more, go faster, etc. But they’re just feeding into the compensation. And eventually something will break or erode if they keep pushing.

I love taking pictures. I love taking videos. I love documenting the happy and momentous occasions. I have always been this way. For a period of time, I made everyone video birthday gifts. I put videos of their lives and then a slideshow of photos from their lives all on a DVD, to music. They went over really well. Now, I stop during long runs to take pictures of deer. I photograph sunsets like it’s my job. I’ve tried to take a picture of the moon. I’ve never, ever been able to do the moon justice. I do make sure to put the phone down and enjoy the live event. And when that happens, there are usually no pictures. I’m the picture taker.

The iPhone 11 Pro came out. With that camera. Nope. Too expensive.

That camera looks great. It looks amazing. Could I actually take a picture of the moon? I’m working on a hand-me-down iPhone 6 that drops calls and crashes apps, but I’m fine. God, I want that camera.

I debated this for over a month. I’m not sure exactly how long. I thought … well, I haven’t put all the money from Grandma away yet, I could still… But it seems so frivolous to spend that money on something like a phone. Dean said I should get it. I wasn’t sure. We researched different phone companies and all the different deals they were offering. There wasn’t really anything we could take advantage of. No excuse there.

“Your best bet would be going to an Apple Store and seeing if you can get a trade in,” Dean said.

“Is there even one in Nashville?” After I asked, he looked it up.

“In Green Hills,” he showed me the map. It was across the street from where I would be teaching on Wednesday.

“Maybe I’ll look,” I said. “I have to pick you up anyway and your class ends half an hour later than mine.”

No one showed to the Wednesday class. (Start up.) I went to the Apple Store. I was thirsty. My mouth was dry. My phone had some screen damage from who knows what. Apparently the screen had started to lift away from the actual phone. They were not able to give me a trade-in. I asked so many obnoxious questions. I was there for at least an hour. I was late picking up Dean.

I got the new phone.

Doesn’t Jake look great in that fancy zoom? I can’t wait to see what else I get.

I had a dream about it Wednesday night. I dreamed that I was fighting the Russian mob with my phone and Sidney Poitier. He was impressed with my zoom lens, which we were able to use to spy on our foes. Also my phone was able to get crazy knowledge that we needed, super fast!

After I had picked him up, and we were home, I showed Dean my new phone. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“For spending money on yourself,” he said. “You deserve it.”

I’m still trying to believe that. But maybe it’s just an under-active muscle that needs to be strengthened.

(But, thanks, Grandma, this phone is sick!)

Money is a terrifying thing in general. Even more difficult to talk about.