Life Without Plastic

It's a Saturday afternoon and I'm sat in my pyjamas, having achieved the sum amount of nothing today. I should be out shopping, at the cinema, meeting friends for lunch, on a weekend away - any number of things but couped up on the sofa with the Hollyoaks omnibus. To be fair, I haven't had time to watch Hollyoaks this week so it's a bonus, but I'm not a big fan of lazing around when there's a big world outside I could be experiencing. Unfortunately my small part of that world is torrential and I don't fancy tottering around knee deep in rain water.

But it's not the rain that's the issue, it's the cost of life. Every activity seems to involve some form of expenditure, and since I'm on a mission to save a few thousand pounds with which to escape to New Zealand, I have taken to living my life without plastic. Plastic cards, that is - namely of the debit and credit variety. I'd been doing alright until today. If I was bored I'd go out for a walk, or window shopping (although I have no idea why I torment myself looking at pretty things I can't buy), but there is only so much a person can take before the desire to rebel sets in. I'm on the verge of cutting up my cards just to prevent myself from giving in to the urge to hotfoot down to town and render myself penniless - max out my credit and bleed my savings dry. Or, since it's raining, log in to eBay and partake in some extreme e-commerce.

I've run out of ideas of how to live even a slightly eventful life whilst on a shoestring. As mentioned in a previous post, A jammy dodger, July 2008, I'm lucky enough to be able to do nice things without paying out. But I can't always rely on my lucky streak. I get bored very easily, perhaps why I'm beginning to spend time blogging when I've never managed to previously. It's a free form of keeping myself entertained. So what to do when I've not got a coupon, voucher or competition prize of some sort to cash in? I've not found the answer, hence why I am itching for a cheeky purchase of some sort, just to tide myself over, relieve the boredom. Like methadone for a recovering spendfreak.

I never thought I was particularly extravagant until I reigned in my spending habits. When I go out, I don't spend much because I'm not a big drinker, I don't shop unless I have an item of clothing that is falling to threads and needs replacing, I don't buy DVDs or CDs, I'm really savvy on a food shop with picking up bargains. The list of my tightarse ways is endless, but I didn't realise it's the little things that add up. I loved a Starbucks every couple of days, a few of those chavvy chat magazines (the ones with Jeremy Kyle and Trisha writing the agony columns), a muffin and coffee with friends, a bottle of wine here and there for a meal... It all adds up, little by little, to an extra £100 odd that I could put onto my increasing overdraft.

Since deciding to emigrate, in April, it's all stopped. I've become money obsessed - keeping track of every penny. The number of times I have to tell my friends that I can't do lunch, or I'll come to the pub but I'm not drinking - even soft drinks; or I'll totter around town with a friend while she shops and I look on enviously, or request we go to a particular coffeehouse just so I can use my vouchers. I love them all for putting up with my madness.

But finally, acting strapped for cash is paying off - literally. I've paid off my overdraft (after two years of pretending it was my money to spend), I've bought an overpriced one way ticket to New Zealand and I've managed to save up half my target savings for emigrating with - with another 4 months to save the rest. And it's taught me alot too, about the value of a penny when I'd only really known the value of a pound. I'm now the queen of stretching leftovers to last a couple more meals, and making bizarrely tasty concoctions out of tinned food - I could give Jesus a run for his money, feeding the 5 million to his 5 thousand, with 5 loaves of bread and a couple of trout.

So, life without plastic is going well, even if it's frustrating. And as it's getting increasingly difficult to stop myself thinking 'just one little skirt/dress/pair of shoes/lunch out' won't hurt, I am taking to leaving my cards locked away at home, away from temptation. Because I know it'll all be so worth it once I'm in New Zealand, trebling my money - dollar for pound. I just hope I don't go crazy once I'm there...