Mr. Martini and I treated ourselves to a dinner at Havana Rumba, a Cuban restaurant not too far from our new apartment. It was fantastic. I had slow-roasted pork that was so succulent and tender it practically melted in my mouth. Along with that was a serving of congris, which was fantastic, and yucca, which was tasty, but not my favorite. It tasted like potato, but had a texture that just wasn’t my favorite (stringy, maybe? I can’t really describe it, since I’m not a food critic.

Now, if I had been braver, right now you’d be seeing a photo of the fantastic meals Mr. Martini and I ate that night. But I’m still really, really, REALLY shy about taking photos in public. It’s one thing to take photos on a downtown photo walk, where I can pass myself off as a student or a tourist. But in a confined public setting, like a restaurant, I freeze up. Or I take a quick snap and quickly put my camera away, not taking the time to frame the shot, adjust settings, or take a few shots at different angles. I just can’t do it.

Maybe it’s something I’ll just have to keep working on. But you’d think, after taking self-portraits for almost a year (I’m less than 2 weeks away from finishing!) that I’d be a little more comfortable with a camera. But considering how few of those shots are in public, it’s definitely something I need to get over.

How about you? Do you have any qualms about taking photos in public? Or do you just go for it and not worry about what other people are thinking? Any tips would be appreciated!

My latest in-public self-portrait. A quick snap from a bench along the waterfront.

I know that a lot has been said about the band, and about the engineers at Syyn Labs that created the amazing, incredible, fantabulous Rube Goldberg device that filled a three-story warehouse.

I just wanted to take a moment to commend the camera operator(s) who were able to film the entire machine from start to finish. Maybe I’m just not seeing it, but I didn’t see any camera tracks along the floor, which makes me think that this was filmed with a Steadicam held by a camera person. Which blows my mind, because the timing of the camera movement had to be so well synced as to not miss any of the vital movements. To me, that is just incredible.

Maybe it’s because I’m spending more time behind a (still) camera lens, but I couldn’t imagine how hard it would have been to navigate through this space and capture every single moment so precisely. And not bump into anything, thereby ruining the elaborate machinery. I know I would have.

Well done, director of photography and camera operator. Well done.

My 365 photo from last Monday. See how excited I was about my bright idea?

Almost immediately, though, I started looking for the down sides. Started thinking that it might not work, that it wouldn’t be possible. I even wrote about my concerns in my last post.

This weekend, I did a lot of thinking, and thought it might still be worth pursuing. I figured that I’d find ways to make it work, and decided that this week I was going to be less negative, and just focus on what I could do, rather than what I couldn’t do.

And as luck would have it, what did I find in my inbox this morning? An e-mail from Cass at Cass Just Curious, telling me that I had won a gift certificate to the latest Mondo Beyondo course. Mondo Beyondo is an online class about dreaming big. It’s a course I’ve been wanting to take, but couldn’t fit it in the budget. Cass is taking the course, and bought an extra seat which she gave away, just because she knew someone would like it. How amazing is that?

Can you say serendipity? I swear, it’s like the Universe knew I needed something like this right now. I’m so excited to take this class, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. I’m so, so excited.

Thank you again, Cass, for your generosity in giving me such a gift. I really appreciate it.

Yes, yes, I know. In our case, it’s not like anyone forced us into debt. Bad decisions in my past, along with random circumstances, put us here. I put myself here. I’m aware of that.

But it still stinks.

It especially stinks when I want to make changes or pursue opportunities, but I can’t because all financial decisions revolve not around our happiness and our futures, but around the numbers being paid to our creditors.

For instance, in the last few days I’ve had a couple of ideas. Goals I’d like to pursue, plans I’d like to follow, ideas that in general will enhance my life, and by extension, Mr. Martini’s life. (He’s one of those “if you’re happy, I’m happy” types.) Yesterday, I was brainstorming, getting plans together, creating a plan and getting organized, but then I stopped.

These ideas require funding. Not much, granted. But there’s no room in our extremely focused debt-reduction budget to pursue them with the verve I’d like.

Crap.

Crappity crap.

Trying to get rid of this debt is forcing me to focus on my impulsive nature. It’s forcing me to grow up, and look at these ideas and decisions and think them through. To problem-solve and realize that just maybe there’s a different path to reach the goals I’ve set for myself. That things don’t have to change overnight, and in this case, can’t. Which, granted, means maintaining a status quo for the time being, and work slowly on these goals, rather than try to do everything all at once.

In the long run, this will help me to prioritize. To understand that working through paying off the debt first before jumping into a new path will only help me down the road, when I’ll have more freedom to pursue those goals on my own terms, rather than on my creditors terms.

It’s just so far away. But at least it’s still attainable, even if it’s a long way off.

But remarkably, by the end of it, I was feeling pretty good.

All day yesterday I was crabby. Beyond crabby. I was frustrated and grumpy and prickly with an undercurrent of angry. I’m not exactly sure why (I think the weather had a lot to do with it), but it was one of those days where I couldn’t see the good in anything. I was defensive and frustrated and just plain unhappy. It was one of those days in which you could have told me I was a million dollar lottery winner, and I would have bitched about the taxes.

Yeah, it was one of those days.

After a day where I was so unhappy with every choice I had ever made to get me to that particular day, a day where I honestly wondered what it would take to chuck it all and move with Mr. Martini to a sheep farm in Australia, I finally was released from work and went to my car on the sixth floor of the parking garage.

And my car wouldn’t start.

And my cellphone battery was dead.

I silently cursed the heavens, and oh so luckily managed to catch Awesome Co-Worker B before she had left the garage. She let me borrow her cellphone, and I called Mr. Martini and then AAA, who said they’d be there in about 45 minutes or so. B offered to wait with me, but I figured it was just the battery, and all I’d need was a jump, and told her not to worry, and to go home. She reluctantly left after also offering to leave me her cellphone (how nice was that?) but I told her not to worry, I’d just wait in the car and read a book and I was sure I’d be on my way home in no time.

Flash forward a (very, very, very cold) hour later, and AAA’s “Rescue Ranger” couldn’t get the car started, and needed to call a tow. Which would take another hour and a half or so. Or, as little as 10 minutes. He really couldn’t say.

Not wanting to miss the tow truck, but wanting to let Mr. M know what was happening (remember, I had no cellphone) I ran across the street to my office, where amazingly Other Awesome Co-Worker S was working late. I called Mr. M, and let him know that I’d be even later. Other Awesome Co-Worker S said she’d swing by my car on her way out, and see if I was still there. Which she did, and she even waited with me and kept me warm until the tow truck guy showed up at 8:30.

Tow Truck Guy was a little gruff. A little rough around the edges. But I’m a firm believer in that little tingle that you might feel in the back of your neck when you sense someone is out to hurt you. You know what I mean? I had that feeling a few times when I lived in Boston on my own, and even in Chicago a few times. I respect that feeling.

Tow Truck Guy, for all of his gruff exterior, didn’t give me that feeling. And I knew that I was in good hands when he asked for my keys, and I handed him my entire key ring. “Don’t ever do that,” he said. “Don’t ever give someone all of your keys, your house key and everything, when they ask for them.” As he spoke, he twisted my car key off of the key chain. “Just give them your car key. Like this.”

Since the tow truck wouldn’t fit in the garage (the clearance was too low) he had to push my car down the six flights of the garage (which apparently isn’t that big of a deal, since it’s all downhill, but it freaked me out).  Other Awesome Co-Worker S waited long enough to make sure that he was able to get my car hitched up, while I made arrangements with B (via S’s cellphone), who awesomely agreed to meet me at the garage and drive me home.

Tow Truck Guy got the car hooked up, and we were on our way to the garage.

And here is where my day turned around.

I asked Tow Truck Guy his name. “Scott,” he said. “I’m Susan,” I said. “Pleased to meet you, Susan.” Scott replied.

On the ride to the garage, I learned a lot about Scott. Scott is a recovered alcoholic and drug addict, seven years clean. Scott used to be homeless. Scott now works for a center that rehabilitates homeless and drug-addicted veterans. In the winter, when his job gets slow, he drives a tow truck. “I can’t be bored,” he said. “I was an addict 24-7, and now I need to be in recovery 24-7. So when it gets slow at work, I drive this truck. This way, I still get to help people.”

“You sure helped me tonight,” I said.

“That’s right. You see, I was a little put out when they called me for this run. I was supposed to finish at 8 tonight, and I was all the way across town. But then they told me that a young lady was way up on the sixth floor of a garage, downtown, at night, and I knew I had to help. What if you were my daughter or my sister up there? Yup, I knew I had to take this run.”

“Well, I do appreciate it.”

“Yup. I try to do good each day. Now that I’m recovered, I thank God for every day that I’m clean, and I try to give back. I wake up each day and seek clarity, and am thankful I found a spiritual God to help me through. You notice I said spiritual God, not religious. I think everyone has to find their own version of a spiritual God, and serve him. That’s what I try to do.”

Scott said that he tries to give as much to the world as he can, because he knows that he’ll get the same in return. And, as he put it, “I figure, if I’m good, the devil will have to work hard to get me. And the devil’s lazy. He don’t want to work hard. So I work harder than him and keep God in me, so the devil will move along. I’m too much work.” He chuckled.

We had a really nice talk the whole way to the garage. He told me about his wife, and their dog, and how much he loves his job and his life, and how lucky he feels each and every day to be alive, and able to give something back.

Remember the bad day I’d been having? Talking with Scott totally turned me around. It was hard for me to stay so grumpy and angry about everything, when I was listening to someone so purposeful about their daily happiness. He made it a point not to let the petty frustrations get to him, because he kept an eye on the big picture. Even if I didn’t agree with all of his beliefs about God and the devil, really he was talking about optimism and pessimism and internal demons and what it takes to get through the day, and how what you give is what you get.

Granted, I’m still going to have bad days – one conversation in a tow truck isn’t going to relieve me from my mood swings, and that’s fine. But last night, after a really, really bad day, those words of optimism were just what I needed to hear.

Thanks, Scott.

Friday night, I went to a Jewelry 101 class (#13 on the list!). Saturday morning we were up early to get the car serviced, then ran some errands and got the car washed for the first time all winter (I think I heard the car weep with gratitude). From there, I ran to a yarn store to purchase some much needed yarn (that was within budget, I might add) and after dinner we watched The Hurt Locker.

Sunday was a get things done around the house day, and including making pretzels and figuring out how to crochet and general cleaning up.

Monday, I worked from home due to another snowstorm (really, Louisville? Really?). Basically, I sat in front of my laptop all day long waiting for e-mails, taking 5 minute breaks to run to the basement and switch out loads of laundry.

In other words, I’ve been busy, but without really accomplishing anything. You know how it goes. You get on life’s treadmill, you get everything done that needs to get done, but you don’t really feel like you’re moving forward or getting anywhere. Because you know that next weekend, you’ll be doing most of the same stuff again, over and over, weekend after weekend, more laundry, more cleaning, etc. etc.

I try to spice it up with the fun things (class, pretzels, yarn) but these little luxuries don’t seem to be having the joyful uplifting impact I’m hoping for.

I think it’s this winter that’s getting me down. Lack of sunlight. I started taking my Vitamin D again, hoping that will help. I think I just need some sunshine to get me off of the treadmill and make some forward progress.

Here’s the thing – I work with budgets for a living. Part of my job is overseeing a client’s budget, making sure their money is used efficiently and effectively, tracking all spending and making sure that the budget is spent to its fullest but (this is key) not OVERspent. So I figured this month long sorta kinda budgeting would be a breeze.

Yeah, right.

I didn’t think about one very important aspect of my work with a client’s budget. It’s something I probably wouldn’t have thought of if I hadn’t read it in The Wealthy Barber (which I’m not through reading – I’ll let you know what I think of it when I’m done). I don’t have the book in front of me, but it was along the lines of:

Business budgets are one thing, because business budgets are all about needs. But personal budgets are about more than needs – they also include wants. That’s the major difference.

That was a light bulb moment. Because looking back at the January pseudo-budget and the lists of expenses, there were an awful lot of wants written down. Which explains why certain areas of the pseudo-budget were capped out well before the end of the month.

I feel a little silly that this didn’t occur to me before now, but it really makes sense. When I was putting the February “It’s real this time” budget together, based on the January spending, I put a little aside for those wants that may come up. It’s a finite amount, enough that we shouldn’t feel too deprived but not so much that it will hinder us from reaching our goals. The amazing thing is that we haven’t blown through it yet, and last month at this time, we would have spent double that amount already on random “want” items.

You can bet that I’ll be buying some yarn with that “want” portion of the budget. Just not as much as I might have last month.

The best part? When I arrived at work, I discovered that during my drive in, they had announced that our opening was delayed two hours. Rather than turn around and head home, I got to get a bunch of work done in a very quiet atmosphere. Then, I got to leave early during a break between snow bursts and work from home the rest of the day. Score!

Photo taken during a previous snowfall – we got about 3x as much as this photo shows. But I thought it was pretty, and figured the post needed a pretty photo.

When I got home, I volunteered to shovel the front steps and the sidewalk in front of our house. I’m not sure what I was thinking, as this was a lot more work than I remembered from all of my snow-shoveling stints as a wee child. (I’ve lived in apartment complexes for most of my adult life, which did not require me to shovel.) After I was finished, I was sweaty, achy and exhausted. In other words, I need to work out more. (I let Mr. Martini handle the driveway. Lucky him.)

Finally, I must report that this was the second weekend in a row that I did not complete anything from my 101 in 1001 list. Never fear, though, as I have plans for this weekend, to complete not one, but TWO items. Which ones? You’ll have to wait and see.

And now, I’m going to go take a couple of Advil to prevent the sore back I’m sure to be getting. Oy.

Wait, why was I awake at 4 a.m. this morning? I’m glad you asked, if only to give me the opportunity to tell someone my tale.

But first you need to know a particular quirk about our cat, Zelda. Every morning, she follows me in the bathroom while I get ready for the day. This is her “bathroom kitty time,” a time when she brushes up against my legs and rubs her face on my ankles and lets me pet her and love on her while she purrs her little heart out. I must admit, it’s a nice way to face each new day, with a purring kitty warming up my shins.

The only problem is that sometimes, Zelda’s internal clock wants bathroom kitty time a little early. And sometimes, it’s a few hours early, like today. To get my attention on these days, she’ll paw at the cupboard door under the bathroom sink, opening it just enough for it to slam shut very very loudly. The resulting BAM! BAM! BAM! wakes me up and gets me out of bed and into the bathroom to investigate, where I see Zelda, who starts purring and looking for her bathroom kitty attention.

Except that instead, she is removed from the bathroom, placed unceremoniously into the hallway, and the bathroom door is shut.

And on mornings like this morning, that means that I find myself unable to sleep at 4 a.m., as Zelda takes the opportunity to chase after her sister, and runs all over the house for an hour. As it turns out, nine pound cats sound like elephants when they chase each other in an empty, silent apartment.

Which is why I was composing blog posts in my head this morning at 4 a.m. I can’t remember most of it, but the point was:

Why don’t people use the world “lovely” anymore? I love that word. I use it whenever I can. The problem is that I think it makes me sound a) like a grandmother; or b) pretentious. Which makes me sad, because I don’t want to sound pretentious, or like a grandmother, or like a pretentious grandmother. But sometimes “lovely” just works perfectly.

I say we bring back “lovely.” Who’s with me?

You know, this may be one of those posts that sounded way better in my head at 4 a.m.

My problem, I’m finding, is that life doesn’t hand out systematic report cards. Sometimes I find myself struggling with a situation, and trying to find the best answer to it, but I don’t have much to guide me. If I knew I was getting a C+ at this area of life, I might try to find a better solution. Without a quarterly report card, it’s sometimes hard for me to see a situation clearly, to understand what the issues are and to better decide if I should try to find a different class, or a different professor, of if I need to change my major entirely. As much as I may love Einstein, it doesn’t mean I’m cut out to be a physics major, you know?

I’m sure this seems pretty transparent, but in reality I just had a rough afternoon. Today made me miss the confident Student Me who knew how the system worked, and figured if college was that straightforward, surely grown-up adult life would be a breeze. I guess I need to look at days like this as my Adult Report Card, and take stock of the grades that life seems to be handing me. No one wants to live a C+ life. Or, at least, I don’t.