broke and dreams

I'm broke.
Not dead-fucking-broke [yet], but uncomfortably broke. Extremely uncomfortably broke when all I do in my free time is build up my dream bike piece by loving piece. Chris King headset [the sotto voce pink!, or no...classic silver?...but the pink's so cute...], silver Nitto drops, Champs grips [pink, def...mayyyybe white], pink deep V in the back, white or pink in the front...or maybe those polka dot ones?...
Needless to say, before I became officially broke, I was already calculating how to cut living costs to afford this dream-o-cycle. I mean, there's a certain amount I can sink into this bike but if my calculator is correct [don't trust mental math from this Asian], the wheelset's going to eat up that $$$.


Which consequently means I won't be eating much. I suppose that's both a blessing and a curse: I'll be extremely cranky, but I'll slim down [finally!]. And it's not like my pantry's bare [yet], I have a big-ass bag of rice sitting in my kitchen; and I know a good place to get day old bagels [yes, I'm fully aware of how sad this sounds].
I also understand the irony of a bicycle finally kicking my ass into losing weight, cutting expenses, and being more responsible. All things that even the idea of the approaching warmer weather and more revealing clothing [or even a cute boy on a bike!] couldn't motivate me to do.
In a way, I find that oddly comforting, like affirmation that this obsession of mine is for realz. Now, if I can only find a way to squeeze stem, seatpost, seat, cog, tubes, and tires money from my non-existent funds...