It only took a few hours into the month of February before I really, really regretted not allowing myself some iced coffee on my list of rules.  Though I keep reminding myself that every dollar adds up, and I could be no better off at the end of the month if I allowed myself to buy all the iced coffee I really want– that only helps so much.

I’m freaking out a bit.  So what I will be doing to combat this is the same thing that I did this summer when I was topping out at about 2.5 large iced coffees per day.  That’s almost 96 ounces of liquid, and almost ten dollars per day.  I bought a plastic pitcher at the Ocean State Job Lot, and started making iced coffee at home.

The only problem with this is that part of the joy of getting the iced coffee is breaking up my day a little when I’m away from home.  I can really only enjoy homemade iced coffee either at home, or immediately after leaving it.

Also, as I suspected, I keep thinking of things I’ve been meaning to buy for a while that I haven’t gotten around to, but now will have to wait until March, if I am to follow my owns rules and be a success.  Then I tell myself that this experiment is my own, and I can amend things if I need to; then I remind myself that I would feel filthy failing and that that feeling is filthy is simply not worth it; finally, I assure myself that it’s hardest right now because this is a new way of doing things, and I’m very aware of it.

I never thought it would be easy.

So far I’ve done well with free adventures:

  • I got to go to the theatre for free because I know the right people, and I got free delicious food and drink while there.
  • I’ve tried to trick my friends into “sponsoring” me for an event I’d like to attend, but apparently they don’t like me enough to pony up the cash– which is fine, cause that would make me feel a bit filthy anyway.
  • I had a water at Trinity Brewhouse (where the beer is so very good), and excused myself early to avoid temptation.

So far I’m also alienating my friends:

  • Jewish Friend is trying to be supportive of this whole adventure even though when I first announced it, she said: “I don’t even want to talk to you about that.”
  • Joe Roch added after I declined an invitation to see He’s Just Not That Into You: “You can’t even buy a movie ticket? I don’t understand this no buy thing. It seems utterly un-American and, more importantly, un-me.  For instance, Andria: if you suddenly got a really bad sinus infection and NEEDED antibiotics, you wouldn’t buy them? LUNACY! Also, if you saw a really cute pair of shoes and wanted them, you wouldn’t?! MORE LUNACY!”
  • And after paying for both movie rental and beer, Gentleman Caller expressed disdain with having to finance all our fun by himself instead of our usual, fairer, halfsies.

This is all kind of reminding me of the time right before I moved from Fargo, when I was hoarding as much cash as possible and working ridiculous hours among three different jobs.  Because I was saving, I didn’t go out much– also, I was tired, and friends (mostly Heidi), freaked out on me for never being available.

I should be, and am, glad that people want to spend time with me, but that makes this frugality thing awfully challenging.  Perhaps, friends, we could spend time making crafts out of found items, or sitting down with a nice glass of water?

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