The Grown Up is Here

I'm turning 30 in 36 hours. 

I'm turning 30, and I'm about 30% hypochondriac, so it's fitting that I think my ankle and my knees just got strained for no apparent reason, except that I'm almost elderly, so that's what happens naturally.  I'm abruptly turning into the old lady who breaks a hip on the way to the fridge and all things go downhill immediately.  I know I'm headed that way for a fact because I saw somebody's cell phone yesterday and had no idea how to use it.  That only happens to the elderly, and the natural conclusion is that 30 is going to be so much worse than I expected.  I mean seriously.  Not only that, but when I stand up it takes a few seconds to actually stand up straight.  Oh. My. Gosh. 

So anyway.  Thirty.  Time to make some adult decisions.  Time to go where no twenty-something would ever dare go. 

That's right. 

I cancelled the satellite TV. 

Take some time to really let that sink in.  Because I didn't. 

It all started when I was staring at the black hole of sadness that is our budget and realized that our bill was nearly 80 dollars.  Last time I checked, it was hovering around 49.  (Clearly I last checked when the dinosaurs were wandering the earth.  Because that was back in the dark ages, and clearly I was alive at that time because I'm THIRTY.)  

So I urge Chris to call the nice people and inform them that we have approached a point where we are unable to be ripped off any longer.  He calls and immediately I can hear him wavering on the phone.  Obviously she has informed him that the hike in the cost is somehow related to our subscription to the Fox Northwest Sports Channel.  This is the channel that is on 24/7 in the summer...the channel that just happens to televise every single Mariner game.  I know what Chris is thinking.  No Fox Northwest Sports Channel?  Why be alive? 

So in my wise age, I grab the phone and engage Amy the service woman, (who strangely seems to be quite effortful in her English pronunciation, by the way) in a nitty-gritty conversation. 
"Amy, I'm the wife.  Give it to me straight.  How much is this additional package costing me?"
"Well Mam, the base package is 59 dollars, and with the (insert name of super awesome sport package here), it's then 69 dollars. You then pay taxes on top of that, resulting in 79 dollars a month."

In this moment, I'm already furious.  She called me "Mam".  That's so inappropriate, I can't even breathe.  I'm a girl.  She should have called me "Young lady" or "little girl".  Obviously she can hear that I'm almost 30.  I turn around and meet the eyes of Chris. 

If ever a grown man ever looked more pitiful, I would be shocked.  I could literally see the joy of life leaving his eyes right in that moment.  He was even holding sweet little Adelai, and it didn't matter.  The Mariner season?  Gone?  What's the point of living?  Why even have a stupid summer then?

I look away from the sad boy and out the window. TEN DOLLARS.  That's not going to do a darn thing to the deeply depressing piece of paper that informs me that I'm enslaved to my debt. 

He looks pathetic.
I sound like a "Mam".
Amy (as if that's actually her name) the service person is waiting expectantly, working deligently to sound like she is American. 

"Amy.  So are we saying that the bottom of my option is 59 bucks?"
"Yes Mam."
I'm going to jump into this phone and strangle this woman if she calls me that word one more time. 
"Okay, let's just cancel the whole thing."
My own mouth drops.
His mouth drops.
She sounds stunned.
What did I just say???  Can't turn back.  Mam's don't turn back.  Mam's move right on forward.
The deed is done.  Like a big girl, I have dropped the hammer down on the household entertainment.  The boys are going to be devastated.  I'm devastated.  Visions of ESPN channels 1, 2, 3 and 4 just flashed before Chris' eyes.  He is a shell of a man.

"Effective today or would you like to start tomorrow?" She asks.
"Right now please", I say, shockingly firm.
I turn and witness the screen on the TV go black.  I hang up the phone.  Shock.

Can I just say that my kids are going to give me the most aggressive amount of hell that ever rained down on somebody?  And as Chris left to go and pick them up from their grandparents house, I turned to a quiet house and stared at the face on the Dave Ramsey book.  Thirty years old, and bored out of my mind instantaneously.

But you know?  The truth of the matter is that if you can't find a place to tithe, yet money is escaping your death grip because entertainment is so critical, well than a 30 year old needs to make some changes.  Because heaven help me if I meet Jesus face to face and can discuss the details of the Bachelor but I didn't find a way to put my treasure where my mind, heart and soul are. 

Oh my gosh.  I forgot all about the Bachelor.  That just proves that I'm losing my memory too.
When did a grown up move into the Garland home?  She is going to ruin everything.