I’m in a “get a grip” mode these days — trying to put myself on (workable) regimens to create positive life changes. Slowly, surely, with a bit of hope, I inch forward.

One of these changes is putting myself, for the first time, on a financial plan. Urgh! I have been semi-together moneywise for a few years, but have never had a budget, have always spent money on whatever I wanted, and have always had a nagging suspicion that I spend beyond my means (this is where you yell at your screen “well, duh!”)

That’s why my credit card balances were steadily creeping upward — up, up, uppity up. And the interest rates were horrifying. I was ready for action. So, I called a credit counselor. It was a wincy, pulling-the-bandaid-off experience, sharing with another human how much I make, what my expenditures are, working out a budget, getting a credit report. But it felt pretty good. Perhaps not the total high-colonic feeling I perhaps expected, but good nonetheless.

The bottom line is this: no more credit cards. I am closing the existing accounts and going on a long-term, but doable, plan to eradicate existing debt. With the counselor’s help, my interest rates will shrink by an unbelievable amount, and I’ll pay a sensible, handy monthly payment.

Even though I am not starting this regimen until next week, a couple nights ago I resisted temptation to charge a pricy plane ticket and used my debit card instead. It made me ill (even though I have the money) and very, very full of trepidation for The Way Things Are Gonna Be From Now On.

Which is weird, because, if I stick with my budget, I will be able to plan for these things, never overdraw, take on a &#$@@% car loan, build a cushion of savings, and even start preparing for retirement. But it’s change. And it’s weird — weird, grownup, and smacking of “I’m Old”-ness.

This was hard to share. But I offer this story to you because

1. if you are a financial fuckup, like me, you might draw some ideas or inspiration to get a grip on your moola, or
2. if you are a grown up, financially responsible human, you can, at the privacy of your monitor, sneer at me and feel all superior. I have no problems with this. I know you’re a good person, really.

All these regimens I am on! I could use some mindless, cheerleader type of encouragement. (This is where you give me some mindless, cheerleader type of encouragement.)