The hubby and I were on our way to deliver our customers’ South Beach Diet food a few hours ago. (I’ll tell you more about this on later posts) As always, we discussed anything and everything that we heard, did and all our encounters during the day (or even days before). I was telling him about my disappointment in life recently. I have a regular freelance job (I don’t know if there’s such, but I definitely consider mine as one) where I earn a lot better than regular rank n’ file employees in the country. But being a really materialistic mother and wife, who has a constant need to indulge herself of silent but deadly luxuries, had to have another job or probably a business. So I did what I had to do. I ventured into the South Beach Diet meal delivery biz. But then problems started to pour in after I did just that. Oh yes, there was money. But the moment we had them, there was something somewhere that would let us spend it over something else. So we had no savings. No nothing.
So I told him that I think its actually better when we had less money. We had less problems.
I don’t want to seem emo since I’m really not. I just want to enjoy that effing hard earned money. I wanna travel with the hubby and the kids. I wanna buy my first LV, my own laptop (borrowing from my mom gets tiring sometimes.. esp when you hear things you really don’t like to hear), a really nice and cool gadget, a condo in Makati or a day at the spa even. Sadly, I haven’t even been able to visit the dermatologist for a 200-peso facial.
The only material thing I was able to buy.. err, loan, is our luxurious old car. A Mit galant dating back from the 90’s. It looks handsome, don’t get me wrong, but it sure can’t hide its age on some parts. And if we didn’t need the car for delivery, I don’t think I would’ve thought of buying it. The hubby goes gaga over this car so there’s no need to ask on what he thinks about it. Now, I can’t even pay for the car!
I now wish I hadn’t stopped breastfeeding Migsy. One big can of milk (costing almost a grand), doesn’t even last him a week! Whew! But that doesn’t stop there. His Pampers, wipes, Cetaphil and his heart meds cost a lot too.
Now, where do I stop?
