I tend to be someone who runs at the base of what I need until I begrudgingly have to up that base for some reason. I don’t like to spend money even though I can afford to do it now and again. To be clear, I am not skimping on the basics by any mean. I don’t have to worry about my next meal or putting clothes on my back. My cat lives a life of luxury with many cat perches and the best food possible. In fact, he’s sitting in front of my keyboard right now (slightly blocking one of my monitors). My brother said I spoiled him too much, but why the hell not? I love him and can afford to spoil him. I don’t have kids so he’s the main object of my affection. So if I want to lavish him with beds and treats and whatever else, that’s my choice. It’s still not that much money in the grand scheme of things, however. The only thing I buy him on the regular is food–and litter.
I grew up thrifty. Everyone in my family acts as if we have nothing. For my father, it stems from the fact that he grew up in a very poor family. His father was a farmer who refused to work for years. Why? I can’t quite remember why, but it had something to do with moving? His wife wanted to move and he didn’t? Or something to that effect? Anyway, he didn’t work for many years so the family was even poorer as a result. He had four brothers and sisters (two of each) and he was the only one who was allowed to go to grad school in America. He and my mom sent money back to his family every month. My mother came from a solidly middle-class family, but she had seven brothers and sisters, so it wasn’t as if they had money to spare, either. Half of the eight kids ended up in America for post-grad (and remained on this side of the ocean), including my mother. I think it’s the oldest four, in fact, which is interesting.
The point is that both my parents are from humble beginnings. We were dirt poor when I was a kid. We slowly became middle class over the years, but the “we’re poor” mentality persisted well past the point where it was true. My father is weird with money. he would pinch pennies ruthlessly, complaining about kiwis being two for a dollar. Then, he would turn around and buy a fifty dollar water pick without a second thought. I think I have a bit of t hat in me except I think a long time before I buy anything. Then, it seems as if I did it on the spur of the moment because I go all in once I actually make the decision. Like when I adopted my cats. I went on Petfinder and looked at black cats by the dozens. My only criteria were that they be brothers and not very clingy. That was it. I saw hundreds of black brother cats and my eye was caught by the description Shadow’s foster mother had written for him. It said that he knew what I was thinking because he was psychic, which immediately endeared me to him. And that I needed two cats. I fell in love and when I found out that they were going to be at the local Petco (or PetSmart) the next day, I knew it was fate. I went and loaded down on everything I needed, but not the boys. Their foster mother didn’t bring Shadow to the event because he hated them and no one ever looked at them at the five or six previous events. I went to her house a few days later to pick up the boys and brought them home. Yes, it seemed like I had made the decision on an impulse, but I had been looking for a few months before actually adopting them.