Budgeting should be considered an art form. It’s part theater (acting like you can afford groceries), part digital interpretation (online shopping for best prices), part graffiti (throwing mustard at the wall when you receive a surprise doctor’s bill) and all illusion (where did the money go?). 

My paycheck stretches like it’s on a taffy-pulling machine, folding over and over itself, almost to the point of transparency. When did the basic costs of living become a luxury?

While grocery shopping, my husband can’t stop comparing prices from 60 years ago. “When I was a young boy,” he said. “I could buy a loaf of bread for a nickel.”

“Were you Oliver Twist?” I asked. He ignored me and walked down the dairy aisle, ranting about the cost of eggs.

At the check stand, several items rang up for more than what was labeled on the shelf. I asked the unenthused cashier, “Did you raise prices while I was in line?”

He shrugged and continued packaging my groceries, smashing bananas, eggs and bread with my magnum of wine. Just kidding. You can’t buy wine at grocery stores in Utah.

Driving to work becomes a nail-biting thriller as I gauge how much gas is left and if it will last until the end of the month. I was filling up my car the other day and the gas pump showed the person before me had purchased $5 worth of gas. I hope that 1.6 gallons is enough to get him to the bank he needs to rob. 

Even my chai tea latte from Starbucks has incrementally increased from $4 to nearly $6. That’s bonkers. I don’t mind paying a bit more so employees make a livable wage, but last year, Starbucks’ net revenue was $30 billion. 

Then I learned the new Starbucks CEO was given a $75 million stock award, a $1.6 million salary and a $10 million signing bonus. The only signing bonus I ever received was when I got a free pen for starting a savings account when I was 8. 

Corporate profits have hit all-time highs. And those rising prices are never going to drop because then how can the Starbucks CEO afford $1,500 sneakers for his Pomeranian without squeezing the life out of consumers?

My husband said, “Then don’t go to Starbucks.” 

“Shut up,” I replied.

Housing costs are outrageous. Going to dinner and a movie requires a home equity line of credit. Tax increases nickel-and-dime us to death. Did you know Utah is one of only a few states that tax social security benefits? Thanks, Utah Legislators!

It’s not like I want to purchase Prada paper clips or Balenciaga bookmarks. I don’t need a Rolls-Royce or a personal library, complete with a rolling ladder and a fireplace. (Okay. I actually need that). I just want to afford a night out, maybe a weekend getaway or an annual massage without selling blood plasma. 

My grandparents grew up during the Depression. Decades later, they still saved drawers full of tin foil and rubber bands in case we ever needed a defense against mind control or had to make emergency bouncy balls. Maybe I can learn from their frugal behaviors. 

So, we tighten our belts, pinch pennies, clip coupons and say, “We’re right on budget this month.” The moment those words leave our lips, the garbage disposal explodes, the fence blows over or the basement floods. Budgeting might not be an art form, but it’s definitely a comedy.