Dollars v. Sense

The standard marriage vows mention good times v. bad times, richer v. poorer. I never understood that redundancy - I mean let's face it, good times v. bad times is all about the money. Look at any personal-finances scale and you'll see "Bad Times on one end, and "Good Times on the other. At least, I've been told that "Good Times" is on the other end: from where I'm standing on the scale, the path to "Good Times" fades to a point on the horizon right about at the "We Can Pay The Electric Bill This Month" mark. Money can't buy you happiness? Why the hell call it "Good Times" then?


Here is my chart of marital bliss. As you can see, the leaner the budget, the meaner the couple. Ergo, the fatter the budget, the happier the couple. Well, to a point, anyway - I think that once you reach a certain level of financial comfort, you've pretty much peaked on the happiness scale. Any more comfort and things start to fall apart. I imagine that once your combined annual income gets much over, say $50k, a typical conversation over champagne breakfast goes like this:

Him: "I am NOT spending another four weeks in Paris shopping for Zac Posen handbags and Perigord truffles."
Her: "What Everrrr."

The Academy's purchasing habits are the financial equivalent of chumming. On any given weekend, I'll go through the house collecting all the clutter that needs to be taken to the curb and disposed of. Most of it was purchased the previous weekend. Out at the curb, people gather like seagulls behind a fishing boat. Yes, our purchases generally have a life-cycle of 7 days or less. That giant flat-screen plasma I bought last month? Two inches too small - let's buy a new one. That leather satchel she got last week? Its full and she doesnt feel like cleaning it out - let's get another one. That professional diamond-blade tile saw I bought? It won't do radial cuts - give it away and buy a better one. But let's charge it and save the cash for impulse items like the professional wireless weather station, or a spare digital camcorder with thermal imaging capability.

Yeah, we're financial idiots - I admit it. To me, a tax shelter is the cabinet where I stash all those tax forms that I usually don't get around to filing until September. All those people who are worried about the burgeoning federal deficit? They're obviously unaware that we haven't filed 2005 yet - the penalties alone will get Uncle Sam back into the black.

So this is all a very long way of saying that the Headmaster is heading back to www-- w-- wwe-- wwwweerrrrr-- Sigh... I'm heading back to w-w- w-o-r-k.

I'm prostituting myself to corporate biz-dev Johns as a part-time proposal hit-man for hire. That thousand-page RFP that's been sitting on your desk for 3 months and must go out by tomorrow? I'm your guy. After all, I've got a lot of experience crafting proposals. Including this gem that I banged out one New Year's Eve: "Honey, its the last day of the year, and if we want that favorable tax status we'd better head over to the Justice of the Peace." Gosh, I thought the Headmistress was going to swoon over that one.

Of course, we didn't file until September.