Tag Archives: frustration

Loving God, Hating Money

21 Sep

I hate money.

I hate earning it, I hate saving it, I hate talking about it, I hate worrying about it.

I guess I do like to spend it.

But that’s not the point.

Travis and I just got into a fight over money. Even though this is supposedly the thing that married couples fight over the most often, Travis and I rarely fight over money. Mostly because I would rather just not think about it. Ignorance is bliss, if you ask me. It works out well for us because Travis is good with money. I am not. I was the girl who overdrafted frequently because I avoided balancing my checkbook like the plague – not because I can’t do math but because even just that simple act caused me anxiety.

So when Travis wants to buy a new gun or fishing gear or a tool, all I ask is if we can afford it. If he says yes, then I say go for it. When I want to go shopping for a new shirt or running apparel, I ask Travis if I can and if so, how much I can spend. When Travis thinks we should refinance our mortgage or open up Roth IRAs, I say “Great! Where do I sign?” This process works for us.

But my new job has caused unexpected animosity between us in regards to money. First, it was because I accepted the job despite the fact I would be getting paid less than what was initially promised. Since I don’t really care about money, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Travis disagreed.

Then, it was because I needed to get a new desk, wanted to redo the office, and had to buy office supplies – out of my own pocket. Reluctantly, Travis gave me a budget and I stayed within it (for the first time ever!)

We’ve fought over me needing a new printer and a shelf in the garage, me driving our own car up to Boulder instead of the company car, me getting paid a pathetic $15 per diem for when I’m traveling.

Tonight, the fight was about me going over our minutes on our cell phone plan (out of our 1,400 shared minutes, Travis used 130 and I used the rest, plus an additional $75 worth) and my working from home necessitating us having internet (since both of us have smart phones, we don’t really need internet at home). Both of these are things that my company should be pay for because they are things I need to do my job. But they don’t. I have asked them about getting more money for my phone (I currently get $30/month) but they refused, saying it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else.

Travis’ reaction to all this is frustration at the owners of the company I work for. He feels (rightfully so) that they should be paying for this stuff and since they refuse, he gets angry. And when he’s riled up enough, he comes to me and tells me things need to change.

My reaction? Anger, right back. “What are my options?” I scream/ask. “I need these things to do my job. If they refuse to pay for these things, I have two options: I can put up with it or I can quit. Do you want me to quit?”

If you’ve followed my blog for any of the past few weeks, you know that this is not the first time or reason why I have contemplated quitting my job. And when my job causes this kind of friction and frustration between me and Travis, I can’t help but think “WHY do I have this job again?”

When Travis is upset about money in regards to my job, I can’t help but feel like the bad guy because if it weren’t for me, the one with the job, we wouldn’t be having these problems. And that makes me hate money even more – when I should really be hating Satan because I know these fights are exactly what he wants. Satan wants this to drive us apart. Satan wants this to take our eyes off God and wonder why He allows this kind of injustice to happen to us. Satan wants me to doubt God’s leading me into this job and wonder if maybe I made a mistake leaving Dare 2 Share and should look for a new job. Most of all, Satan wants to destroy our faith.

There are practical steps to be taken with this situation – I have already emailed my boss D about getting the company Vonage phone for my use, since she doesn’t use it and I really could. I downloaded an app to my phone that will allow me to tether it to my computer, turning my phone into its own hot spot, in the hopes that we will be able to cancel our internet service and save that $40 a month.

But the biggest step to take is faith. It’s running to the Father in prayer, asking for His wisdom to guide us, for His provision in our lives, and for His mighty hand to work this situation out for our good, as trite as it may seem in contrast to the big picture. So I will run, I will ask, and I will rest.


3 Feb

That’s the only word I can think of to describe today.

It started off all right. I went over to my friend Carrie’s house this morning with a delicious, grande skinny caramel latte from Starbuck’s (my new favorite drink) and we had a good, encouraging chat about marriage and men.

But the good ended there.

I walked out of her house around 8:10 to go to work but was confronted with a car door that wouldn’t open. At first, I thought maybe I had gotten the seatbelt jammed or there was something stuck in the door that wasn’t letting it open all the way.

Oh, no. It was the actual door. Bent. Mangled. Deformed. Smashed.

Someone had backed into it and driven off.

I’m actually kinda proud of what I did next. Instead of just driving off and talking to Travis about it later, I called him because I thought maybe moving the car wasn’t such a great idea without first contacting our insurance company. After talking to Travis, I went back inside Carrie’s house and called the cops. I called work to let them know I would be in late. I called our insurance lady.

And then I waited 30 minutes for the cops to show up.

It took him 5 minutes to write up the report once he did show up. Then I was off to work, that is once I climbed into the driver’s seat from the passenger side.

Ah, work. What can I say about you? You are beyond standard words. Only choice words can describe you. Because honestly, you make me want to cry, gorge, scream, mope, rage, sigh, and slack all at the same time. Today I hated you. I’m not really expecting tomorrow to be any different. I’ll sit at my desk, alternating between boredom, rage, and joy.

But mostly just boredom and rage.

After a meeting with my boss and our marketing consultant, I wanted a donut with chocolate icing so badly. I think I might have one for breakfast tomorrow. Doesn’t that sound heavenly? I never eat donuts. I’m not supposed to now either, since we only eat sweets on Sundays.

But guess what? I don’t give a rat’s ass.

Whoops, did I just write that? 

I had a package of brownie bites instead of the donut because the gas station across the street from our office doesn’t have donuts. The brownie bites were a total letdown though–they definitely sounded better than they tasted.

But I either had to eat some chocolate or I had to leave. Drive off into the sunset, never to return (at least not to work). Oh how I wish I could be like Peter in Office Space and just say, “You know? I don’t feel like going to work today…so I don’t think I’m going to.”

I think I’ve figured out why I’m so frustrated and POed: I’m not in charge of anything. I don’t have a sandbox. I don’t have a concrete job description. Everyone around me has work and tasks coming out of their ears, eyes and nose. They pull all of my work out of their butts.

I’m sick of butt work.