Bill paying night...

Tonight is one of those more difficult nights. Bill paying night. And I always do this at night, you know, which I shouldn’t, but I do. In fact, I put off going through my bills till the last possible moment of the last possible day for them to get to their destinations on time. Well, we all do that, you may say. Or we all feel like doing that, at least. But I’m going to stick up for myself here, and say that perhaps the reason why I procrastinate with my bills is not the reason that you do it.

It seems human nature to avoid the unpleasant. What is not unpleasant about paying my bills is getting my adulting out of the way. I like adulting. I like being able to pay for my stuff, although I do get annoyed when I have to pay for stuff that I don’t feel I should be paying for. An example would be my parking fees where I work. Maybe I should be contributing to the parking lot, but…I don’t want to.

So, yes, I do glean a certain peace and satisfaction from being responsible. I don’t put off paying my bills because I don’t want to give up my money, necessarily.  What I dislike about bill paying day (or night)… is that it reminds me that I am alone in the world.

On this particular night, I don’t like being alone. Most other days I am ok with it. I have college age children and a menagerie of pets they have left me with as they’ve gone off to higher education. The Snap Chatting, dog walking, cat brushing, and guinea pig cage cleaning keep me focused and occupied, as does my career in teaching. 

On bill paying night, however, I am starkly reminded of my aloneness.  I don’t have someone to sit next to me, the laptop in front of us, planning our next outing, or figuring out how to afford all of the adventures we’d like to experience. I don’t have someone to argue with about which is more urgent:  new gutters or building a fish pond. There isn’t the victory lap for getting my own way in a money tussle. There isn’t an “us” anymore when it comes to me and making decisions. When I left the marriage, I had no idea that this…this, would be an aspect that I would actually miss.

Something does need to be qualified here: I’m not sure that I ever had “this”. Thinking back on my marriage, it seems like paying bills and making plans wasn’t an activity we did together, like a “you and me against the world, Babe” scenario. Our values, hobbies, and desires were more “as far as the East is from the West”.  How we ever found ourselves in the same place at the same time to even fall in love in the first place is actually—I don’t know. I don’t how it came about anymore.

When it comes to managing the concrete details of my First World life, it feels singular now. It’s a feeling that makes me uncomfortable. I’m a teacher. I don’t make enough money to even get to make a lot of plans. I rent my quaint little house, with my quaint little yard, and I’m learning to become a minimalist. Moving out of a 4900 sq ft house into a 1300 sq ft bungalow requires substantial
 de-cluttering, along with giving up having my own bedroom, the vacuum system and a dishwasher. I did it. I was proud of myself.  And I’m thankful, thankful, thankful, to the Lord above for miracles that only He and I know about.

I’m uncomfortable because I’m doing the best I can.  While this makes me happy, it also is dizzying. I overspend at times. I save at other times. There isn’t a sounding board any longer. There, only am I, alone in the world.

Today my imagination was running on a bit, and I found myself thinking: What if I just didn’t work anymore, or what if I find that I can’t make enough money to afford to live anymore? What if I just spend what I have until I can’t pay for another meal? Would I just open the back door and let the pets go free? Would I call the car lender and let them know they should come and repossess my Kia Soul? Then would I turn off my cell phone for good, close up my adorable, too-small-bungalow, put the furniture out on the curb and mark it all “Free”? Eat my last meal, go sit against the telephone pole in the parking lot next to my former house, and simply expire? What if I…Just. Stopped. Everything? Hmmmm….

The feeling of being completely alone, without any guidance from a significant other, is reminiscent of learning to ride a unicycle. No handle bars, no chain, no 2^nd wheel. It’s a bare, unprotected sensation.  I did learn to ride one, did you know? I was 50 years old and it took me two years to be able to ride without the aid of a hand-holder. Now I like it.

It’s been a little over 6 months since I started this single life experience. Do you think that maybe in another year, I may not dread bill paying night anymore? That perhaps I may go back to procrastinating for the regular reasons?  The option of winding down my life until it ticks to a stop really isn’t that appealing. I like life too much. I like the people who love me too much. I like all those pets too much…