Money Matters

Since everybody has been expressing their concern about my entries of late, I have decided to ease up a little bit. One can only go so far in tormenting others with tasteless jokes before they're hauled off to court on the charges of causing grievous hurt. Besides, I would not want for little children to be reading my blog and then complain to their parents afterwards of how they never, ever want to connect to the Internet again.

But anyway.

It has crossed my mind that in the past few years, I have become no good with money. I don't mean that I would prefer to avoid money, or that I am afraid of it. Nothing of the sort. I am no chrematophobe. No, not me.

If I were a participant on Fear Factor, I would not hesitate to dangle on a tightrope suspended in mid air over a deep pit filled with money. Lock me up in a small room and send currency swirling about in a vicious and threatening manner, I will not blink an eye. If I were to pull up my pants one morning and discover that several banknotes had crawled up the legs in search of warmth from the chilly night before, you would not hear me shriek.

So no. I have no aversion towards money. I would even go so far as to say that when it comes to money, I am an enthusiast. In fact, I'm planning to start my own collection.

What I mean to say is that I am no good when it comes to working with money. Some people understand money as a living organism, with its own logic and life cycle. Some people can feel the particular rhythm inside money, and allow money its own momentum and follow as it leads them to even more money, just as the flowing river leads you to the sea. Not me. I cycle through alternating phases of hoarding and spending, interrupted only by alternating phases of spending and spending.

I do not let my money work for me. "No money of mine is going to work!" I thunder. "Not while I am the head of this house!" (Of course, I am not the head of any house yet. But it is a fantasy that coyly plays in my head often).

Every so often my parents will ask me to sit down with them and they will explain the state of my finances and advise how best to improve things, but when they do I sit there feeling like an illiterate Sicilian peasant farmer with a large moustache when the men from the government come around with their clipboards. They rattle on about savings and accounts and dividends, and I watch their lips move and think about supper. When they are finished, all I can think of saying is: "But do I have enough to feed my goats this winter?"

So honestly speaking, I have yet a long way to go in reaching financial maturity. Of course, the same goes for intellectual, behavioural and social maturities, if you ask my parents.

postscript: On a happier note, I would like to congratulate Ayumi on her excellent results. Plans to send her off at the airport are already underway *smile*