Taking Out

Normally, no matter what time it is, or what kind of day I've had, I'm willing to throw dinner together with whatever's in the house. It's not guaranteed to be good, but it is almost certainly guaranteed to be cheap. It's partly a remnant from my time out of work. It's hard to forget the counting every penny and the fear of going out anywhere, lest I spend money I wasn't bringing in.
 
Now that I am "bringing in," I'm a little more willing to take out. It's not that we're suddenly millionaires. We never were anyway, and after the last few years, any thoughts of that are far away. No one tells you that once you've been out of work, you never truly recover, financially or psychologically. The feeling of being at risk never really goes away, no matter how many days you work.
 
Thankfully, along with that feeling of risk comes a feeling that you can't always live as if the sky is falling. A feeling that if you can't include some fun or specialness into your life, it doesn't matter whether you're "bringing in" or not.
 
So, some nights, like tonight, I do "take out." It adds a little zing (and subtracts a little work). It costs a little (or, it being New York City, a lot) more, but it also reminds me to celebrate what I do have. The risk may live on, but the celebration should live on too. Sometimes with a little Thai food on the side.