I have been on a greater than usual “miserly binge” lately . . . and that’s saying something. I know that tight budgets will be the norm for some time to come. This has just become my new reality.
In truth this is the last sprint down the homeward stretch of this Urban Nomad journey. At least, that’s what it feels like.
I have been lounging around in my warm clothes and haven’t turned the furnace on all weekend, and most of last week. In fact, I don’t plan on turning it on again, not if I can help it. I will muddle through just fine.
This weekend I even had an argument with myself over if I should splurge an extra dollar on breakfast to get some pancakes with it. I was going to do it; I was going to splurge . . . until I saw the size of the pancakes and decided they weren’t worth the extra cash.
Intellectually, buying a place now is a bit of a risk for me. I should wait three years and buy the place once Wanda and Trea are paid off, that would put me in a much better position cash-flow wise.
I would, however, then be 49 and getting a mortgage for the first time. If it is a standard 25 year mortgage, I would be paying it off till I was 74.
Whilst I may joke that I am on the “Freedom 85” plan, I don’t intend to work that long, or rather, half to work that long. That and it would mean three more winters in Wanda, which is not an enticing thought.
Nope, the time to buy is now, or rather, in August, the time will be right by then. For that to happen I need to stuff as much cash into my bank account as possible.
In order for me to do that, I need to save and conserve as much as possible. So off I go on one last push of savings, savings, savings, all for a home . . . home, home on the range . . .