Sasee Magazine

I drove to the bank and deposited my thirty-five dollar check. It was the first time I had ever been paid for my writing. The publisher of the Myrtle Beach Herald had given me the opportunity to write a column based upon two writing samples and a simple promise: “I can do this.”

My first column was about e-mail – when it is useful, when talking to someone is more appropriate, and the fact that people often write far more hurtful comments in e-mails than they would ever say in person. The article went to press and payday arrived. And there I stood, holding my check – money paid to me for my thoughts and words. It was amazing. And at the time, it was the most valuable money I had ever earned.

Luckily, my column money was not my only source of income. I was working full-time as a master control operator at a Myrtle Beach television station. But even that only paid $6.75 per hour. My husband was working more than forty hours each week as a shift manager at a locally-owned pizza restaurant. Between the two of us, we brought home an annual salary that was a little less than twenty-five thousand dollars. This was in 2004 and, by most standards, we were considered poor. But strangely, I don’t remember feeling that way – not at all.

We had a modest mortgage, a few student loans, and a small credit card balance. Other than our utilities, those were our only monetary worries. And since we were in the heart of a major tourist destination, fun was at our fingertips and it was pretty inexpensive.

Fast forward to August of 2006: I sat in an office at a small, private school in Virginia, signing a contract for my first teaching job. It was double my previous salary, and I felt like I had all the money in the world. So I did what any person with a new job and a bigger salary would have done: I bought a new car.

A year later, my husband and I were getting used to budgeting our expenses and paying for the car, student loans and utilities. We had a little bit of cash left over each month for non-essentials like pizza and movies. So we did what anyone with a little extra money would have done: we bought a house.

Craig was working in banking, and I was in my second year of teaching. And though our salaries had changed very little in one year’s time, we somehow saw fit to purchase a home. We had very little breathing room for the first twelve months; but we made it work.

In August of 2008, I sat in the county school board office and signed a contract for a teaching position at a public school. Once again, I nearly doubled my salary. At that time, Craig’s income had increased also. But this time around, we weren’t running out to make any major purchases. We couldn’t. Our house and car payments consumed the better portion of our paychecks. There wasn’t much left over.

After a while, we started to experience the unexpected – the circumstances that any financial advisor would suggest that people be prepared for. It was a beautifully orchestrated game of dominoes: our car brakes went bad, I needed a root canal, Craig needed two root canals, the dog went in for surgery, we owed Uncle Sam, and then we hit a deer. Alone, each is a minor inconvenience. In the course of one year – a financial fiasco.

Since we had little in savings, our credit card absorbed the extra expenses. And since there was no room in the budget, we could make only minimum monthly payments. We were doing what we swore we never would – treading water instead of swimming laps.

I would like to clarify that we were not living frivolously. We weren’t daily “Starbuckers,” lavish vacationers, or “malloholics.” We were at-home-coffee-brewing, brown bagging, cheap trip takers. Our problem was that we jumped into major purchases before we had room in the budget, before we had enough in savings, before we were ready.

For the past two years, we have been trying to save and pay off debt. It is going to take some time to dig ourselves out. It is going to require more budgeting and sacrificing. But it will be worth it.

I am looking forward to the day when I can work to buy the things I want instead of being a slave to my payments. I also want to be in a position to keep minor inconveniences from becoming major burdens. The next time the dominoes fall, I will be prepared.