Yesterday Joe and I went on a tour of Spokane thrift stores. We were looking for chairs, tables, desks, dressers, and whatever else we could find. We didn't have much luck, but we did buy two kitchen table chairs for $1.75. I'm looking forward to painting them a fun color.
Next we made the mistake of going into Spencer's, a huge antique shop down Division (the worst road in Spokane, unless you like moving ten feet in ten minutes). As soon as we walked in, we knew we should have turned right back around--we couldn't afford anything there. But we spent most of our afternoon wandering the store, drooling over old kitchen canisters, perfect Formica tables, massive oak buffets, and everything else that shows how much better products of the past really are. For a an antique shop, their prices really weren't too high, but it clearly wasn't the place for a couple who just spent 1.75 on two chairs.
After pulling ourselves away from Spencer's, we stopped for gas and filled up the Gem--our interim name for our truck (we're waiting for the real name to come to us in a dream). We spent 18 dollars at the Dollar Tree, went to lunch, and then walked to Rasauers for groceries, where we tried to fulfill all the food desires and cravings that have gone unanswered since we've been here. When I swiped my bank card at the checkout, it was declined. I swiped it again. Declined.
I knew I just been paid. I saw the money in my bank account. Had someone hacked my account? Was my paycheck not actually available like my account had said? When I got home, I checked online and found they had put a hold on my card for "unusual activity." I can't blame really them. I've gone two months without spending more than ten dollars a week, so the sudden attack on the bank account probably did seem suspicious. So I called and confirmed that, yes, I am now in a place where, when I go to the grocery store, I can buy more than milk, bread, and peanut butter.