Once, a long time ago, I lost a $20 bill when I dropped everything to catch a failing-at-flying toddler before she crash-landed. I searched high and low, tore the house apart–that was my gas money, my very last money, and I needed it. But I didn’t find it.
I drove ohhh so carefully to work, timing stoplights as best I could, stressing the whole way there and the whole way back, for five days. Each trip I wondered how much fumes could possibly be left in my tank, and when I’d be stuck on the side of the road trying to figure out how to get home and then how to get my car before the police towed it. Would I lose my job, if I couldn’t get to work? Would they be kind and just cut my hours back? How would I make rent if I couldn’t work? Once you get behind on rent, let me tell you, those fees stack up FAST. Would I lose our apartment over $20? And the same with towing companies—if my car was towed, would I ever be able to catch up with the fees to get it back?
Finally, after an eternity of careful driving and going NOWHERE that I didn’t absolutely have to, I got paid and I could put gas in my faithful, GREAT gas mileage, old Corolla, and we were fine until the next crisis.
For most of my adult life, I lived like that—$20 and half a gallon of gas away from the edge. Sometimes I had a little more margin for error, a few times there was a lot less room to misstep. I’m not ashamed of that. A lot of people live there; I was in very good company. But it’s one thing when you have a variable-hours, minimum-wage job, a disabled husband and a small child. It’s something else when you have a decent job but just can’t figure out how the heck to stop living on that edge. When you have more money and less responsibility (disabled husband having passed on, child having grown beyond the need for paid child care,) you should be able to pull out of debt and make progress, right?
Right?
I tried. I consolidated my debts into one, credit union issued (so lower interest rate,) credit card. I only used the card for things I needed. I got further in debt. I set aside money to pay down the debt, but I’d have an emergency and need it somewhere else. I could not get ahead. Time after time, I would creep forward, then slide back, maxing the card out again. I tried spreadsheets, I tried free apps—and then, somewhere or other, I stumbled on YNAB.
YNAB stands for You Need a Budget. I’ve talked about it before. And here I talked about my spreadsheet, where I plan ahead. That post is from almost a year ago, and not only am I still using that spreadsheet, but last week I put another tab and another four months of planning on it, and I Saw the Light At the End of the Tunnel, the date where I can be out of debt.
I know I may not make it on that timeline. There is still a pandemic on, roomie is still unemployed, child is still expensive, things can come up. But I can see that point. I could push harder, I could do it sooner. I could slide and take longer. But I can see it.
And here’s the wonder that hit me, just this last week as I told myself that it’s less than a year, I can do this, just don’t spend and I can—hang on.
It’s not a lean, grumpy budget. I’ve learned things, you see, in the last few years of using YNAB. This year, I’ve already budgeted for the kid’s October birthday, that always costs more than I think it will. I have a plan for Christmas, which I always think “this year I’m just not gonna do it, everyone can DEAL if they don’t like it” and then I go ahead and spend. I’ve got money tucked into the plan here and there for fixing the house or the car as needed, I’ve got a plan to pay back personal loans that I’ve had way too long, and I’ve got an emergency fund.
An emergency fund is the most amazing thing. You know why? Because I am no longer living waiting for the other shoe to drop. That alone is such an amazing feeling, to realize, when the news is talking about “most Americans could not handle a $400 emergency,” that isn’t me anymore.
This is YNAB’s Rule 2: Embrace your True Expenses. How can car maintenance be a surprise? Even my beloved Corollas break down sometimes. And Christmas? That comes every year! So why not plan for it?
Last month my house needed $2000 of unexpected plumbing. Also last month, there was a glitch and I had to pay my homeowner’s insurance out of pocket instead of the mortgage company paying it out of the escrow account. That was $1052, and I had to pay it immediately because the mortgage company and the title company had been arguing two months about who had to pay it and it was about to lapse. And you know what? I still have an emergency fund. I had to reorder my spreadsheet a bit, but I have two credit cards that are 0% interest where most of my remaining debt is, and I’m still on target to pay them both off before I have to pay interest. Without scrimping. Without canceling Christmas.
This is Rule 3: Roll with the Punches. Stuff happens! Things come up. When I know where I stand, I know what I can move.
And, beyond that—I’ve been budgeting FUN, and I just this week booked a weekend in Sedona where we will socially distance because we don’t much like crowds anyway, and we will enjoy the peace and magic of that beautiful place. I also reserved a cabin on a lake in February, for my birthday.
Y’all. I have get-out-of-town money!
If you want to learn more about the philosophy of YNAB (which is what really makes it work) check out the four rules.
If you want to see how it works, Nick True of Mapped Out Money is hugely helpful.
If you decide you want to try it for yourself, you could use my referral link and get me a free month. Or you could not. You do you. I’ll still love you.
In other news, work on the paranormal book stumbles forward. August is finally staggering out the door. November is coming.
But in the meantime, Sedona is calling. And I must go.
