Rubbish

This was the carnage last night - my credit card dismembered and rendered useless. It was my husband's idea. I heaved with tears as I made the cuts and kept waiting for him to say: "April fools! I'm actually rich and here...have this platinum card instead."

As the pieces of plastic slipped from my grasp, my sense of self did too. Husband thinks there's no financial freedom in debt and I know he's right, but what about the confidence that comes in the shape of a new pair of stiletto's? Or the shade of a good lipstick? Am I going to have to say goodbye Film Noir by MAC, hello Enamor by Covergirl? 

The maternity savings account is drained and I've gone from main bread winner to the bread line.  We just got home from buying bulk cleaning products: a jif bottle the size of my thigh, a persil bucket the size of my stomach. The upside - enough time spent on said bread line and I'll have limbs comparative to bottles of French perfume.