Budgeting

o-freaking-m-g! I have lost track of how much I’ve diddled away this month.

Father forgive me, for I have spent…

• On shoes, shoes, and somewhat more shoes
• On clothes
• On more clothes
• On six expensive seat cushions from Pier 1  (20% off ludicrously  expensive is still too expensive
• On four exceptionally kewl crackly wine glasses from Pier 1 (nothing off…pretty good price to start with, but since I’d already spent my worldly goods on the above, too much)
• On Shane the God of Hair Stylists, who charges an amount one would expect a Greek divinity to charge
• On a sander (not very pricey, but needed only for one, count it 1, project) to refurbish the chairs upon which the expensive seat cushions are to reside
• On restaurant meals of several degrees of extravagance
• On a lifetime supply of Maker’s Mark
• On several cans of spray paint with which to refurbish the chairs (see above)
• On an area rug that made the back room look REALLY nice until the puppy (promptly!) chewed it up

Some of this stuff, I figured oh wtf! I’ve got it in savings, in the tax refund. Tra la, tra la!

Some of it, I figured nothing. Just did it.

The AMEX bill arrived this morning. I’m scared to open it…

So yesterday being Tuesday of the first week into the new budget cycle, I made a gigantic Costco run. As part of the new budget strategy, I’m determined to limit the visits to Costco to one (count it, 1) visit a month. After that, I figure if I run out of something, I either do without it or get it at a grocery store.

But…the dogs and I were out of almost everything. The larder was as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard.

We actually had run out of dog food. Fortunately I’d picked up a roll of the overpriced dog food I learned about during the late, great infirmity. But even the largest packages don’t last long. To allow enough meat to feed both dogs for a full month requires at least four gigantic  packages of Costco’s pork “country ribs” and chicken thighs.

Meanwhile I was out of everything for myself, too: oatmeal and butter and yogurt and fruit and tomatoes and maple syrup and nuts of all varieties and eggs and Parmesan cheese and snacking cheese and salt and olives and on and on and even propane. Had to haul an empty jug of that up there to be refilled. The impulse buy of the day, now that I can stand to have a shirt hanging off my torso, was a package of cheap lace-topped camis (probably not the best idea: they hurt).

By the time I staggered out of the place, I’d spent over $350.

That’s probably not as bad as it sounds. Over the course of a normal month, when I can be expected to make two or three trips up there, I’ll probably spend that much anyway.   But if I determinedly decline to go back again this month, you can be sure there’ll be no more impulse buys. And when I have to replace something — the Cetaphil, for example — buying one unit of it when needed will cost less in the moment than a lifetime supply, even if the per-unit cost is higher than Costco’s.

We certainly will see. I was much heartened by two months in a row under budget. Wasn’t thrilled about being confined to the house over that period. But what the heck.

Schlepped a little over three grand up to the credit union, long as I was on that side of town.  A thousand was from an investment that pays off once a year. Put that money in the emergency fund. And another two thou’ covered several months’ worth of work for a client, and so belonged to the S-corp. All that notwithstanding, I was feeling moderately if unrealistically flush, so didn’t feel too bad about the gigantic hit to AMEX.

Tuesday did indeed turn out to be a good day to visit Costco, as predicted by various onlookers. It was much less crowded than usual. Employees were less harried, even friendly, and once I even found a guy to ask a question of, right there in an aisle without having to track someone down. So the message is definitely avoid the weekends (we knew that), avoid Mondays (they’re low on stock then), and avoid any day before a long weekend or a Big Game.

My plan now is to make one huge Costco run on the first Tuesday of the monthly budget cycle, and then to pick up random groceries at the stores I pass on the way home from my Thursday morning meeting. So that should limit grocery shopping to a max of four days a week and Costco runs to once a month.

Hope it works.

A miracle has  happened: January and February expenditures came in well under budget. On average, I figure to spend $657 a month for nondiscretionary bills (factoring in the high summer utility bills with correspondingly tiny winter ones) and about $1200 for things I have some control over. Total budgeted for day-to-day expenses: $1857/month.

In January, I managed to come in at $1,665, and in February, at an amazing $1,447: TOTAL. Hot damn!

February’s discretionary spending was kept to an almost incomprehensibly low $862, in spite of the $240 brake job! Nondiscretionary expenses, which now include a couple of maintenance expenses I used to regard as discretionary but have moved into the inescapable category, amounted to $615.

Not bad.

In February 2014, the Year from Hell, I spent $2,188. Every month during the YfH brought another unplanned expense, some of them large. Overall in 2014, I spent $2,727 on the dog,  $2,233 on little surprises like pool repair and maintenance, plumbing ripoffs, the air-conditioning ripoff, replaced a pair of  very expensive glasses I lost, and on and on and on. Clearly the $765 I donated to charity was about $765 more than I could afford. These costs, of course, did not account for the couple thousand for Medigap, the amount for Medicare Part D, the property tax, the homeowner’s insurance, or the auto insurance. By the end of the year, I just barely broke even — only because I’d taken $11,000 out of savings to live on, an amount that far exceeded projected needs.

The  YfH consumed all of that 11 grand, plus the money I earned teaching seven sections, plus all of my Social Security.

How amazing would it be if I could keep costs down to the February 2015 level? Well, here’s how amazing:

Yes. If I lived in Never-Never-Land, where every month is February and the temperatures never rise above 80 degrees or drop below 60, I could in theory end the year $6200 in the black, without drawing down a dime from savings!

We know, however, that we live not in Never-Never-Land but on the Other Side of the Looking Glass, home to the Cheshire Cat and the Queen of Hearts. In that ever-so-much-more realistic world, I’ll be lucky to stay on a budget based on average 2014 non-discretionary, non-emergncy costs:

In this scenario, I’d have about $2,860 of budgetary play, enough to cover a few unplanned emergency expenses if none of them is very large. Even that is not bad, because — amazingly — it still suggests that if I can keep a death-grip on expenses, I might not have to draw much down out of retirement savings to survive the year 2015.

That, as we know, is not going to happen: we still have no idea how much I’m going to end up owing the Mayo, after all is said and done by Medicare and Medigap. I’m sure it’ll be at least $2,000 and wouldn’t be surprised to see the total come in at around $5,000. I’ll be unhappy but not very surprised to get hit with a $10,000 bill.

So, it will behoove me to continue to keep an iron grip on costs.

What does that actually mean?

Keeping to the February budget (assuming that were not made impossible by the summer power and water bills) will mean essentially living under house arrest.

In January, I hardly went out of the house at all. For good reason: convalescing from the January 6 surgery consumed most of the month.

In February, I didn’t feel much like running around town, but I also suffered a spate of Bag Lady Syndrome. I determined to get a grip on the spending. And that meant not going out of the house at all unless absolutely forced to. I’ve barely left the house except to walk around the neighborhood, run down to the church, and go to a doctor’s appointment. As the budget cycle ends, I’m out of groceries, out of dog food, out of gas, and out of just about anything else you can name.

To stay on this tack, maintaining expenses at the lowest possible figure for any given month in any given season, I’ll have to pull off the following tricks:

• Never go to any event of any kind that costs money
• Never eat in a restaurant
• Restrict Costco trips to one a month
• Restrict grocery trips to one a week
• Purchase no new clothing, not even anything to accommodate the new Boobless Wonder look
• Purchase no new shoes
• Travel exactly nowhere
• Avoid driving the car as much as possible
• Do not donate one red dime, no matter how worthy the cause
• Do not repair or replace things if they can be left to limp along or done without
• Do not get my hair done
• Stay away from veterinarians
• Stay away from doctors
• Stay away from dentists

After just two months of house arrest, I can assure you that I’m already going stir-crazy. Getting used to living like this is going to be a challenge, although I will say I did it after I was laid off the job. But I am not pleased at the prospect of making it a permanent Thing!

SDXB, who lived like this out of choice so he could quit his job in his late 40s, used to have a long list of Free Things to Do. It’s surprising how many there are, from hiking in the local mountain parks to Bum’s Night at the city museum (yeah: the local museum lets people in for free on Wednesday evenings). There’s a free lunch-time music event in Scottsdale, and low-cost or free lunch-hour plays downtown (or there used to be — those may no longer be operative). Biltmore Fashion Square, an upscale shopping mall, is dog-friendly — you can take your dog over there and loaf around their central greens, and even take the pooch into most stores that don’t serve food. One could take up art again and go paint or draw en plein air.

Art supplies, though, cost money.

Or, of course, one could go grade student papers…