Oh, internet. You're so cute when you're feisty.
In response to recent inquiry from my concerned - albeit a bit presumptuous - commenters and emailers, I present to you in handy Q&A form, The Anatomy of a BMW Purchase.
Q. Lena, how could you pile on more debt when you haven't sold your house??
A. It was pretty simple, actually. Although, it did require both hands and a flashlight.
Q. Why aren't you riding a bike?
A. The helmet made me look fat.
Q. After the way you've handled your finances, I can't believe your husband would buy you a BMW.
A. If you like what I've done with my money, you should see what I can do with a cherry stem.
Q. Are you really having problems with your money?
A. Or is my money having problems with me. I admit, you raise an interesting point.
Q. Why aren't you selling fruit at intersections?
A. My Jimmy Choos get stuck in the sidewalk cracks.
Q. Why a BMW? Why not something more practical?
A. It has four cup holders. Hello! Practical!
Q. Lena, are you learning nothing from your house-selling nightmare?
A. I did! I learned that there's so many other things you can be doing with your m*rtgage statement rather than paying it. Bo-ring.
Don't worry, internet. Life still sucks. Despite what apparently shiny six year old wheels suggest.
I certainly don't need to defend myself or explain my decisions. What I will tell you is that my new car was a fin*ncial decision Chris and I made months ago. A decision that would put us in a much better position on a monthly basis while still providing security and dependability.
I'll also tell you that I'm now working part-time and giving over my entire check to pay off our credit debt. And when Savannah starts Kindergarten next month, I plan on taking the time to get really creative with my next at home business.
(I'm thinking of doing children's parties as The Irritated Clown. It's an untapped market, don't you think?)
I shouldn't have to sit here and tear down my car and further expose my finances so that the internet can sit back and relax and breathe a sigh of relief that I'm not treating myself to something nice (why would I deserve that, after all?).
But, I am.
Not for the trolls with their anonymous email accounts. But, for the people who read me who I know are genuinely concerned over our situation. The people who email me their house-selling horror stories and are rooting me on. The people who I commiserate with off line. The people who deserve to know the finer details of my story because they care. To you, I say, thank you. Thank you for letting me celebrate my six year old little car. Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt. Thank you for seeing through my silly self-deprecating act and knowing I'm not a complete moron.
I appreciate your interest and your respectful curiosity. To those who are simply being judgmental, I say bite my cookie.
No, I'm not rinsing out my baggies and no, I'm not driving a Yugo. But, I am doing something far far worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it.