I’m so boring, drying paint would yawn at me. I made a comment to this effect on an excellent post by Liz, over at the Chief Mom Officer blog. When I told Mr. Groovy about my comment he laughed heartily. I don’t often get that kind of reaction from him so I thought I’d go with it.
I’m So Boring That…
I’m so boring that getting a buy-one-get-one coupon in my junk mail for Dairy Queen Blizzards makes my heart pound. And if the special flavor of the month contains pumpkin, or apple, I’m doing cartwheels.
I’m so boring that I get a kick out of our First Tuesday of the Month Matinee Day. It’s the latest ritual Mr. Groovy and I created.
You might remember from my first post-retirement blog post, I wrote about attending a Tuesday matinee at our local movie theater. Well, beginning this month, we decided to do matinees on the first Tuesday of every month, at home. We started with Season 8, Episode 1 of the Walking Dead from Google Play (which we purchase, since we no longer have cable TV), followed by a short documentary on Netflix.
This month, I received a coupon for one dollar off anything on Google Play. The episode cost $2.19 instead of $3.19. OMG I was ecstatic! I picked up movie theater popcorn, soda, and dark chocolate. Mr. Groovy has to have his snicky-snacks! (This is a Groovy family thing. No one says snacks in his family. Groovy Father-In-Law likes to make up his own words.)
I’m so boring that I look forward to Fridays. Instead of TGIF because it’s the last day of the work week, it’s become TGIF for “Coffee Fridays”.
Every Friday after Mr. Groovy and I take our daily walk we go out for coffee—usually it’s Starbucks, Panera Bread, or Dunkin’ Donuts. A few weeks ago we found a quaint coffee shop in a little strip mall near our house. Funny how it’s been there for three years and we never noticed it. As we sat down with our mochas to enjoy our quiet surroundings, Mr. Groovy reminded me to get out my phone and jot down the expense. We must make note of every penny in the expense tracker. As Mr. Groovy says, we are pathetic.
I’m so boring that my new best friends are Thelma and Louise, two dogs Mr. Groovy and I met in the park. They play in the dog run adjacent to a portion of our walking path.
On our first loop, as we make the turn approaching the dog run, we find Thelma and Louise on the other side of the fence chasing after balls. As soon as they see us, they run over to greet us at the fence and begin barking, loudly. As we continue to walk along the path, they shadow us, running and barking, running and barking, until we make the last turn and we’re out of sight. Before that last turn, we wave to the dogs’ owner who sits on a bench in the shade, yelling at them to be quiet. But we just laugh and shout back “That’s OK. Only three more laps to go!”
I’m so boring that a Banquet Mac & Cheese frozen entree from Walmart makes me happy. Add a salad for dinner and you might as well have taken me to Le Bernadine in New York. It only costs a buck.
I’m a cheap date.
(Do you see a theme here? Food makes me happy!)
I’m so boring that I like to go goat-sighting. You got that right—goat-sighting. But I’m not looking for any goat. I’m looking for one particular goat who occasionally perches himself at the very top of a jeep parked outside his owner’s barn. It’s the funniest sight in the world to watch him up there, sunning himself. I’ve got to get a photo before we move away from this area.
I’m so boring that when we take the back roads to Mr. Groovy’s family, I count the barn quilts we pass by. The most I’ve counted is seven. But sometimes when the density of the foliage changes, I’m offered a glimpse from a different angle and I spot another one. Like the mountains of Montana, they conjure up deep feelings of history, community, and friendship.
I’m so boring that I let out a “Yessss” when I receive an email notification that the library book I put on hold is now on the shelf waiting for me. I still buy books every now and then but I mostly enjoy borrowing them, even if apparently I read the same ones over and over. Sometimes it takes me 40-50 pages of reading a fictional story before it dawns on me that “Dang, I already read this book!”
I’m so boring that when I see a bright green tree frog clinging to the glass on my sunroom door, I’m mesmerized. I’ll stand and watch it for several moments. Then I’ll check back every half hour or so to see if Mr. Tree Frog is still there. He usually stays a few hours. He likes the warmth.
I’m so boring that when I once found the most beautiful spider web in my front yard, I became a mama bear and protected it from the sharp blades of our yard workers. I know I risked a bunch of baby spiders making their way into our home, but I didn’t care. I can’t kill anything in nature unless it’s particularly gross (think cockroaches and earwigs) or prone to multiplying in my house. And the poor crickets! Before Mr. Groovy plugged up a hole in the fireplace I’d have to capture and release any errant cricket that found its way in. Otherwise Groovy Cat would pounce and dissect its legs (I’ve seen the evidence.).
I’m so boring that when I pay at a cash register, I’d rather break any kind of bill than offer up exact change. It’s a cheap thrill for me to watch Mr. Groovy get all excited when I leave a large handful of coins for him. It’s his delight to put them into our giant change jar, one by one. Then he turns to me and exclaims, “You love me. You really love me!”
I admit it freely that I’m boring. But is boring bad? Or am I weird?
Am I weird if I don’t find fulfillment in spending money? Perhaps so.
Do I know people who seem to find true fulfillment in spending money? Yes, I do.
Can I tell them their way is wrong? No, I can’t. And I’m certainly not “mad” at them as Dave Ramsey says. It doesn’t make them bad people. It may, quite frankly, make them more interesting people too.
But I’ll take boring. For me, boring means satisfied, grateful, peace, and simplicity.
And boring makes the path to financial independence a whole lot easier.