Day 6 – Oh, fuck: the finances…

A pink sterling symbol in a black circle

General notes: Take 30mg of Elvanse at 8.00. Handful of cashews for breakfast. Two half-tubs of (healthy!) leftovers for dinner.
Physical notes: Afternoon crash hits at 16.00, but I have discovered that this is probably my own fault for not bloody eating. Resolve when get home with protein and veg and feel fine again.
Mental notes: As above – clear mind apart from the three-hour window when my low blood sugar must have combined with the pill wearing off for a foggy, un-fun effect. Able to think rationally about fixing financial situation, which is great improvement. Not a productive day as worried about previous, although not physically anxious.

Slept excellently and got up an hour earlier than usual. Try to harness early-morning focus and write a short story for my Dad, whose birthday it is soon. Write about 400 words. Noice.

Unproductive morning at work because I realise just how far gone I’ve let my finances go and that consumes my mind somewhat. I’ve got a fiver left until the end of the month in real money (Edit: wait, no, I have £20 in my purse! Hurrah!), and there’s not that much left on the credit card.

To add a cherry to the stale Tesco Value cake, I’ve fucked up a connecting flight booking for our honeymoon. I spend my lunch hour trying to fix it. It’s going to cost about £150 to rectify (from the joint account, which I’ve been good about keeping my paws off). Joe is, as always, very understanding.

Fixing the finances

I’m determined to get my finances sorted – and considering my impulse control seems to be improving daily it seems like a real possibility for once – but everything seems split into BW (Before Wedding) and AW (After Wedding), so it’s difficult to get started.

Right. What can I do now – i.e. in the BW phase?

  • Cancel gym membership. I’m not going to fucking use the thing, I’m losing weight from the pills anyway and if I really want to exercise I’ll go jogging in the expensive pair of shoes I got Dad to buy me for Christmas and then used exactly once. That’ll save £36 a month.
  • Cancel TV licence. I can’t justify £12 a month for two TV shows (the topical panel ones, and they aren’t even on all the time).
  • Sell PS3. We have a PS4 and the old console isn’t even hooked up to anything anymore. With a couple of games, I can probably get £30-40 for it, which will get me through any day-to-day expenses until payday. (I’ve sold my PS3 once before, for booze money. Fun memory.)
  • Sell some books?
  • Oh, God, I literally don’t own anything else worth selling. Hahaha. Ugh.
  • Do more content generation stuff. I can’t really start looking for ‘proper’ freelance work until AW.
  • Find out when the 0% interest ends on my credit card and act accordingly: carry on as usual, upping payments AW, or transfer to another card if necessary. HEAD OUT OF SAND TIME.
  • Make a list of stupid shit I buy to try, update it religiously (hmm), and be able to guilt myself into stopping it. It’s a good theory, right?
  • Look into this ‘matched betting’ thing that Google threw up
  • Ditto ‘usertesting’

Eat to beat the Vyvanse crash?

Urgh, here’s the now-all-too-familiar crash. Just about to finish work at 18.00 and my brain is foggy enough to ground flights.

Did some research on this, though, and I think I’m figuring out where I’m going wrong: I’m not eating until the evening. This is actually pretty normal for me as of about a year ago, as I find it’s the easiest way to maintain mind clarity without meds – eating makes me sleepy. The intermittent fasting also keeps me at a consistent weight.

But the consensus online seems to be that eating, at least an hour or so before the drugs are ‘due’ to wear off – will help the comedown go more smoothly.

I’m not going to lie… I’m worried about putting weight on.

That’s grand, but I’m not going to lie… I’m worried about putting weight on. It’s going to have to be fruit and vegetables rather than my old faithful, the egg sandwich with hula hoop crisps delicately embedded in the filling (I can see your lip curl, dear reader, but I assure you that it is magnificent). I shall prepare something suitably vitamin-y for tomorrow.

Got home, stuffed my face with a moderate amount of Quorn sausage and roast peppers and, sure enough, I feel human again.

My elevated mood is partly helped by walk home in gorgeous sunshine through verdant meadows. England in summer is unrecognisable from England in winter.

The food works its magic and I am able to get some admin work done – cancelling that gym membership, sorting out taxi transfers for the honeymoon, etc. – as well as finally dealing with (most of) the pile of laundry in the spare room. Joe had run out of socks entirely, and seems incapable of checking the clean laundry pile for a fresh supply, so was going to go and buy more today. Well, we all have our blind spots.

I should note that if it seems like I do most of the housework that’s because I do, but Joe also works 40 hours a week more than I do (and I work full time), so it’s not something I resent. He’s never said a word when I get behind or straight up don’t want to do anything for a week.

Reasonable energy levels persist until 23.00, when I plonk down on the sofa with a book until Joe gets home. I actually read quite a bit of the book, too, instead of playing on Facebook. A very happy sign. It takes a while for me to drift off but I am comfortable and content so I don’t mind too much.

Featured image: original image by ryanmorrisonjsy on Pixabay

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