Dave Ramsey is my sexy, bald, financial savior. Many have fallen victim to my endless Dave ramblings in the past two months, and for that I am sorry, but I feel it is necessary to provide further torture in blog form. I’m not going to incriminate my spouse by saying that “we” suck at money, so I’ll revise it to “I” suck at money for this particular public forum. And I do. I can go into Wal-Mart for milk and leave with a six pound cheese wheel, thimble, meat baster, garden tiller, and the latest issue of Us Weekly. I think I have a legitimate disorder that involves the complete loss of rational thought when in contact with useless crap. When clothing and shoes are involved, the disorder progresses into a terminal purchasing illness. I can make up a phantom event for every outfit I come in contact with. For example: “I could totally wear these snakeskin shoes with the black pencil skirt that I need to buy for the art exhibit opening that I will surely attend at some point in my young adult life.” Also, “These shorts will be perfect for the camping adventure that I’m sure to have this Spring, and I’ll need these three new bikinis for the waterfall that I’ll go white water rafting down on the way back to the campsite.” As soon as I exit the store with purchases in hand and enter the reality of the parking lot, the gravity of the situation descends and I know with 100% certainty that I have never, nor will I ever do any of these things. It would have made more sense for me to have bought a racing suit to don while playing Wii Mario Kart.

Enter Dave…I fought tooth and nail with the idea of his strict budget worksheets and credit free lifestyle nonsense. I made the argument that everyone has to live off of credit to some extent and it was ridiculous to think otherwise in the United States of America circa 2009. Mathew said it could be done and I chuckled at his naiveté. Then I read the book Financial Peace. It took three chapters to change my whole mindset about money. By the time I finished the book, I was on a financial spiritual pilgrimage to the Dave Ramsey Mecca of a credit-free existence. I drank the Kool-Aid and joined the cult. In the two months since my Awakening, we have paid off two credit cards, an overdraft account, ¾ of our living room furniture, and are on track to be car payment (and subsequently completely credit) free by the end of the year. When we are, I’m going to call into the radio show and be the crazy, screaming lady that chatters on about the power of “gazelle like intensity.” I’m also going to propose marriage to Dave, because really, who could resist that shiny head.

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