TACO TUESDAY: "Money" Can’t Buy These Tacos (But It Can Fix My Roof)

Song of the Day: “Money” – Pink Floyd

My house is falling apart. The roof is leaking, the gutter's leaning, the window cries in the wind, and the siding peels like a bad sunburn. I'm one step away from living inside a metaphor, inhabiting the very definition of dilapidated.

And yet—somehow—I’m still standing. Still sweating. Still showing up. The house may be collapsing around me, but I’m not. That feels new. And it matters.

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"Money, it's a gas..."

Pink Floyd had no idea how real that line would hit in 2025. Every time I feel like I’ve built a little savings cushion, life shows up like a cosmic wrecking ball, intent on proving its superior timing.

“Nice nest egg you got there,” it seems to whisper. “Be a shame if someone… flooded your hallway.”

I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just impressed by the sheer, cinematic precision of it all. The anxiety of it hums quietly in the background, making even simple decisions feel monumental.

This morning I was budgeting out groceries, supplements, and protein powder when the roofer texted me back with a quote that made my soul temporarily leave my body. The text—“Estimate attached!”—popped up just as I was debating whether I could afford avocado toast.

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Enter: Tobito and the Refried Avenger

I didn’t even have time to sigh before the madness began.

Naturally, this is the exact moment my internal support team materialized. Tobito burst into the kitchen, sombrero tilted with an almost manic purpose, a blueprint for salvation drawn on a tortilla in his hand.

He slapped it on the table.

“I’ve designed an emergency tarp system using recycled salsa lids and leftover tamales!” His large, expressive eyes gleamed with conviction.

The Refried Avenger followed behind him, pushing a shopping cart laden with broken shingles, two mismatched dumbbells, and what I think was a motivational speaker’s discarded, slightly crushed microphone.

“Storms don’t just build character,” he muttered, flexing a surprisingly firm bicep. “They expose weak foundations.”

They’re not real, obviously. But their chaotic wisdom, their conflicting advice—it helps. It externalizes the internal dialogue, the push and pull of optimistic absurdity versus pragmatic, weary wisdom.

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Training in a Storm

Despite the financial tremor, I still got the workout in. Still hit the step count at work. Still did the cardio.

My muscles screamed, but I pushed through—each drip from the ceiling a rhythmic beat in my mental playlist, driving me forward.

And I’m eating on plan. No soda. No garbage. Meat is still part of my meals—balanced, intentional, and protein-heavy when needed. No guilt.

Semaglutide’s doing its job quietly in the background. And me? I’m doing mine.

The truth is, everything in my routine is harder when money stress hits. It creeps in. Makes you tired. Makes you justify things. But I didn’t fall into that trap today.

Old me would’ve said, “What’s the point?” and ordered fast food just to feel something, to fill the void.

Current me threw on Pink Floyd, finished the stairmaster, and made ground turkey tacos—savoring the grounding texture and wholesome fuel.

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Tobito's Fixer-Upper Wisdom

After dinner, I caught Tobito attempting to patch the rattling window with a lattice of tortilla chips and duct tape, his brow furrowed in earnest concentration.

“It’s crispy. It’s structural. It’s delicious,” he insisted, probably eyeing the chips as much for a snack as for repair.

The Refried Avenger sighed—a sound that seemed to carry the weight of all financial burdens. He gently replaced the chips with a small, sturdy dumbbell, propping up the window while whispering something about resilience being built, not bought.

Again, imaginary. But also, precisely the chaotic-yet-grounded support team I need right now.

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You Can’t Budget Rock Bottom

What I’m learning is this: I can’t control when life breaks down—physically, financially, emotionally. But I can control how strong I am when it happens.

That’s what this journey is really about. Not just weight loss. Not just self-improvement.

It’s about becoming the kind of person who doesn’t collapse when the roof leaks.

I want to be able to handle it. To carry the weight. To fix the problem—one rep, one habit, one weird taco character at a time.

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Final Thoughts: Burn Calories, Not Your Wallet

So yeah, today’s song was “Money.”

Not just because of what I owe the roofer, but because of what I’m building—the invaluable capital within me.

The house may need help, but the foundation inside me? That’s getting stronger.

The Refried Avenger says it’s time to reinforce the mind’s load-bearing walls. Tobito says we need to tarp the heart with optimism and grilled onions. Both are right.

Let the house need repairs.

Let the bills pile up.

Let the storms come.

I’m not folding. I’m flexing.

And I’m still showing up—one taco, one track, one training session at a time.

🎯 Catch more of my journey into weight loss, self-improvement, and real-life balance here:

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