Exorcise Those Financial Demons and Exercise Your Tush!

I failed to exercise today, but that's because I was busy looking at options for my retirement fund. I just recently did the math and decided that, since I can't deposit money pre-tax into my pathetic excuse for an IRA, I'd cash it out and put the money into a Roth IRA. It seemed to make more sense than paying taxes on the money twice: once before depositing and then again when I withdraw it once I'm old and feeble. Okay, scratch the feeble bit, because I'm essentially there, already.

I spent Saturday spending money on necessary evils (car maintenance, mostly), but still squeezed in some exercise (I walked to get my forms notarized!). I haven't finished researching the stocks and ETFs into which I will invest my brand-spanking new R-IRA, yet, but I'm sure, with the way my current IRA administrator operates, I'll have plenty of time to work on that.

So no exercise today, but I did buy lots of healthy yummy food to eat - steamed, most likely - over the next week. I will not give up my daily Dr. Pepper, because that's what keeps me sane in the mornings, but there will be no more drinking of alcoholic beverages on the days when I have my Dr. Pepper, which means no Dr. P for me on Fridays. I am determined that I will fit into those black jeans again within a month. Maybe two months.

In other news, I finished reading "Wolf Hall," a fascinating novelization of Thomas Cromwell's rise to power during the reign of Henry VIII. Okay, now everyone launch into the Herman's Hermits song. I'll wait until you're finished singing, bad British accent and all.

The book is written with rich detail and vivid descriptions of the life of the nobility and the would-be-nobility. I had always operated under the misunderstanding that Cromwell was high-born, but such is not the case, now that I go back and wiki the man (just to double-check, although the author seemed to hit the details pretty squarely on their heads. At least, according to the Henry VIII biography I read).

I have a sneaking suspicion that the author used more than just Wikipedia in her writings.