Dropping Perspective: Part one in an occasional series about how much I love my life

Jackie calls in a hurry.

Jackie in Segovia, one of the most photogenic people ever.

"Well I was looking at skyscanner, and even typing in cualquier sitio it was at least 150 euro from Sevilla to wherever. Even to Milan," she said, making clear her opinion about any Ryanair destination that would be more than 100 euro roundtrip.

"I know," I continued, rifling through my cabinet looking for any food that didn't require cooking. "It's holy week, tickets to go anywhere would be expensive. Look, Eric and I found tickets to Oslo for 150 ida y vuelta from Málaga. But Scandinavia is so expensive that it would end up costing more anyways."

Options in my cabinet since my no-Mercadona-until-I-have-to resolution (more on that later) are limited. Only options: Cruzcampo and digestive biscuits. Dinner is served.

"Look, Eric and I were talking about going to southern Portugal after the processions. We could spend a few days near Faro on the beach. That, or to Cadiz for a while and then hop over," I explained, pouring a beer. "We wouldn't even have to rent a car if we planned it well."

"It would be better in terms of money..." Jackie said. She was warming to the idea. Spending February in Madrid makes any beach look like a paradise.

"Yeah, and I would love to get back to Portugal. Okay, well we can hammer out the details on email and then Skype about final plans." I hammered the lid back on the glass bottle of Cruzcampo, wondering if that conserves more carbonation by having a lid on it or loses more by the violent act of reapplying the lid. I stick it in the fridge by the milk boxes. A pink box of desnatada, or skim milk, that is Laura's, and a pale green one of semidesnatada, or 1%, which is mine.

"Okay, sounds great, talk to you later."

Jackie hangs up. I put my phone in my pocket. I put the cookies back in the empty Colacao container so they don't go stale, realizing beer and cookies were never a winning combination.

I drop some perpective: my biggest compromise is spending Spring break in southern Spain and Portugal rather than on a weeklong holiday elsewhere in Europe.

Perspective dropped. I am a lucky one.