All this debate about the debt ceiling has brought the topic of money up close and personal. But that’s a good thing. This summer as I’ve struggled to get my own financial house in order, I’ve learned some things I’d like to pass on to my friends in Congress.
#1) Be honest with yourself about your spending problem.
As a kid, I was a saver. My mom and dad had given me a bank with different divisions for church, bank, store, and I dutifully split my life savings and bitsy income between them. Throughout college, the little bit of money I made went into textbooks and art supplies, and I was happy. The last thing I ever thought I’d struggle with was overspending. When grad school came, for the first time in my life I had a real paycheck. My first few years I lived frugally, shopping at ALDI, spending literally nothing on clothes or decorations, donating a bit, and chiefly eating Raman noodles and bean burritos. But then I realized I had money left over. Gradually, I became accustomed to buying pretty much whatever I wanted: first small things (a nice shower curtain), later large things (a nice camera with accessories). I never looked at how my rate of spending of was increasing and my appreciation of stuff was decreasing; I just did what I wanted. Gradually, I fell into a disturbing pattern of spending binges and purges. I’d declare a “need” that took precedent over everything else, and go on a book or poster-buying spree. Then I’d “purge” as penance for overspending by subsisting on canned food instead of buying fresh groceries. Then reality began to dawn. This spring I started listening to Dave Ramsey. Based on my spending habits, I started hearing myself in the callers to his program. I wasn’t the caller yelling “We’re debt free” with my husband, five kids, and family dog; I was the caller swamped with $300,000 in credit card debt and a foreclosed home. The day I woke up to this, I realized my spending pattern wasn’t just unhealthy, it was stupid! I was no longer the saver I used to be; it was time to rein in the spender I’d become.
#2) Say yes to a budget; say yes to sanity.
When it comes to shopping, I seem to be the world’s worst combination of extremes. After endlessly vacillating between two choices, I impulse buy… both. Yeah. Not proud of that. But y’know what I’ve learned? A budget does wonders at focusing the mind. Some things got cut completely. Other things remained, but were given an explicit allotment of funds. Everything was scrutinized, and for the first time I realized how much of my money was going to completely indefensible ends. Once I recognized that there would always be more opportunities than cash, and honestly distinguished between what I needed to live and what I thought I needed to live, life became much simpler. The word “no” reentered my vocabulary, and peace was restored to its throne. I set aside a fixed amount for each activity I deemed worthy of putting money toward, and the thrill of the chase began. Shopping was no longer a paralyzing matter of finding that perfect widget at any cost. It was an energizing matter of finding an OK widget within my budgeted cost. I regained sanity.
#3) Limit the time you spend offering yourself things.
The more offers you get to buy something you don’t need, the more times you’ll have to say no. While I was getting better at saying no, I wasn’t perfect yet. And I realized that an offer to buy something often set my mind down a spending track even if I said no to the offer at hand. When clearing out my email inbox, I realized for the first time how many marketing spamlists I was on. I started to see these emails for what they were: offers I not only needed to decline, but offers I needed to stop subjecting myself to. For years I’d been reading and deleting these things. I just plain needed to unsubscribe! So I did. I thought about other temptations to spend. Instead of looking forward to the next “Dividend Dollar” check from my bank, I decided to try to keep my dollars in the bank instead of trying to “win” them back by overspending. I decided to turn my radio down whenever commercials for things I didn’t need came on. I realized that my credit card inflated my sense of wealth, and cold turkey, switched to a debit card. I relearned the joy of paying for something once, and never needing to pay another bill.
#4) Surround yourself with lifesavers.
Do your friends ever pressure you to spend more than you think you should? Or do they impress you with their feats of coupon prowess? Subtly and overtly, we are influenced by the people and media around us. As a recovering shopaholic, I’m trying to learn from people who put money and possessions on the right priority plane. That is, they’re not skinflints making their own dental floss, but they’re also not trinketjocks flaunting the latest whizbang. They show me by example that living withing their means isn’t an exercise in futility, but a series of tradeoffs that ultimately leads to contentment.
You may wonder how my list could possibly help Congress. Here’s how. Washington has become too comfortable with overspending and debt. You don’t have to be Jabba the Hutt to be obese, and instead of comparing ourselves to Greece and Ireland, Congress needs to own up to its own burgeoning spending problem. Besides, debt makes us a slave to our debt-holders, and the sooner we recognize this, the sooner we can get on the path to fiscal sanity. We’ve got to distinguish between national expenditures that are actual needs (defense) and others that are not only wants, but unconstitutional wants (welfare). Instead of avoiding even the construction of a budget for years on end, Congress must consistently make–and follow–a realistically cost-cutting budget. Instead of maxing out its federal credit card, Congress must seek to decrease its debt and reclaim the financial security only solvency ensures. Everything must be weighed against the Constitution. Strict priorities must be established, and money must be allotted according to these priorities. If the money runs out before the wants get taken care of, the wants get eliminated. Instead of debating new ways to spend money, Congressmen must try to outdo one another by advancing new ideas of cutbacks. Finally, if Congress is going to beat its spending habit, Congressmen must seek out others who value thrift. This is no time to be buddying up with spendthrift Congressmen; we’ll vote out as many of them as we can, but in the meantime, shore up your newfound fiscal sanity by listening to Dave Ramsey.
This four-point plan took a lot of pain, mirth, embarrassment, and rejoicing, but it worked for me, and I know it can work for this great country.