I’ve blogged about this before, this time it’s panic induced.
As most of you may have caught on by now deep thinking is not my forte. I tend to speak my mind, often wisely, commonly not. Easily affected by emotions, I let them influence my actions and my reactions. In fact, I can recall a number of instances when a few of my readers became upset at me for doing just that.
My wife, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. If ever a rule did apply we were meant to be with each other. If not for her there would be chaos running rampant through this house. As if enough doesn’t exist at work.
Well, to my point. Due to this gross immaturity I have stayed away from our checkbook, knowing full well that certain things are better done by those who are more apt and saner. Until yesterday!
Yesterday, I first got a glimpse, in an array of colors that made up our pie chart, of what we make, where we spend, how we spend, and most importantly, how most of it is now going to good old Uncle Sam, and I don’t mean taxes. My wife enters our income and expenses into a wonderful program called QuickBooks. This devious program pretends to be friendly and graciously accepts entries and performs its own calculations, how wonderful. All this work culminates in an emotionally charged finale, the summary pie chart.
Nearly half the pie to student loans? WHAT THE F#$$%%!
I am so past the being upset part, or the cursing part, or the ranting about how ridiculous this is part, or about the mental breakdown in the kitchen with a bucket of ice cream part, or about the calling it quits and declaring bankruptcy and moving to Mexico part, or even about this enormous run on sentence part. Oh, I am so past all that.
What I need now, mostly, is the advice part. Oh my god, I have a mortgage and a half on my head. Where do we go from here?
(I mean financial advice, please don’t try to make me feel better about being slammed in the ass, oh boy, I’m writing how I feel again, have to stop that)