Occasionally I get to the end of a busy day with little enough energy and ambition to be tempted by frozen pizza. You’re tired from getting so much done today, I rationalize, so it would be fine to grab this easy meal at the grocery store on the way home.
It’s easy: throw it in the oven and be eating more quickly and at a lower cost than take out. Sometimes I talk myself into it, and even if I splurge on the better selections, my frozen pizza is topped with disappointment.
Occasionally I get to the end of a busy day with little enough energy and ambition to be tempted by frozen pizza. You’re tired from getting so much done today, I rationalize, so it would be fine to grab this easy meal at the grocery store on the way home.
It’s easy: throw it in the oven and be eating more quickly and at a lower cost than take out. Sometimes I talk myself into it, and even if I splurge on the better selections, my frozen pizza is topped with disappointment.
Halfway through the second slice, I am quietly berating myself. To save a couple of bucks I am consuming a processed food product that is far less satisfying than something from a pizza place. Bloated and gassy, I vow to never repeat this mistake…until a few weeks later.
I am running into a similar issue with a home improvement project. Three roofing contractors have given me estimates so far; I await numbers from a fourth. One thing is quite clear — this is going to cost more than I had hoped.
Twenty years ago, I was convinced my house then was the last I would live in. The new roof we bought there was not the least expensive option; the contractor installed shingles with a longer warranty, premium ice guard for the drip edges, and an increased number of vents.
I figured going with top quality materials meant never having to worry about the roof again, and applied the same logic to replacing windows and siding, upgrading the electrical system, and purchasing new appliances.
For my new house, the roofing estimates start at a few hundred dollars more than I’d planned and go up from there. And there are options: I can just put a new layer over the old, failing shingles, I can tear off the existing layer to install ice guard and better venting before putting on the new shingles, or I can have a metal roof, the last my home will ever need.
Money is tight, but I am wrestling with the decision on where I will perceive the greatest value and satisfaction.
If price weren’t an object, I’d take metal. Besides its durability and insulating properties, I’d be able to tell visitors to look for the only metal roof on the block. And it would be really nice to have the attic space properly vented and never fret about ice dams in the winter. But just nailing down new shingles over the old would cost $1,000 less than the next best price.
Deep down, it felt really good to improve my old home with the best. Now that it belongs to my ex-wife, I took satisfaction in knowing she and my sons wouldn’t have to deal with issues regarding the roof, windows, etc. So I wonder if I’ll regret going with the cheapest option here at the new place.
Fortunately, I don’t have to make a decision today. Despite plentiful rain, the roof is not leaking. Plus, I’ve got a few irons in the fire that may improve my freelance cash flow, allowing me to get a higher grade roof.
It’s something I have to figure out, lest I end up feeling bad for topping up my house with the equivalent of a frozen pizza, quick and cheap and not what I really wanted.
