Money, Money

I just checked my bank accounts on-line for the first time in two weeks. For some, this might sound incredibly irresponsible. For me, I'm throwing a quiet party decorated in wine and those lovely little green olives from Whole Foods- you know, the ones that aren't too lemony or too garlicky? Why, might you ask? Because, it seems, that I am on the way to recovery at last.

Control freaks manifest their diseases in different ways. Some must have access to the remote at all times. Others hyper-ventilate at the thought of a surprise party in which they were unable to dictate the flatware or which non-traditional Italian restaurant should cater the gloppy eggplant parm. I, eh hem, am guilty of all of these things and more- including checking my bank accounts at least 3 times a day. Yes. Three. Understand my jubilation now?

God has slowly been teaching me that I-gulp-have-ugh-no-ew-control. Over anything. Not my job, not my weight, not my happiness, not my money. I didn't believe him, naturally. I never have. Until, a few weeks ago when my sister-in-law reminded me of what happens when I let go. So, I thought I'd give it a try. And you know, I still have money right there in that account after not checking it obsessively every 5 minutes. The bills have been paid, we have been fed, we've even done some fun things that I would have deemed "out of the budget" because not only am I a control nazi, I am also a tightwad which translates into no fun. Maybe God does love me enough to care about me after all. Huh.