Sunday 26 July 2015

Money matters most foul


Case in point is my relation with my superior better half (as opposed to just my better half) who is much more particular about things financial against my 'throw money at it' brand of problem solving. 

Now, one thing that must be said is my creative accounting style allows me to maul timeframes and payment cycles in my head much more easily than people who are more systematic in their approach to balancing the chequebook – logic takes time to comprehend in that it requires a clear minded approach and a clear line of sight to chronology. Creative accounting and quick assessment, on the other hand, have an almost wicked means of solving itself.

The case I mention about my wife is that she is very particular with paying the bills from her own funds with the expressed expectation that the funds will be replenished by me as quickly as it exited her own account. Given my affinity to dilly and dally, coupled with my innate nature to willy-wally, my chequebook is slow in coming out. This is not so much as a reflex to not pay my dues as much as it is an indication of my, often, nonchalant and relaxed temperament (to say nothing about my sincere, but lax, intent that my debts are as good as paid... eventually).
Each month my beautiful wife picks on her finance and duly ensures that my obligations are honoured. And each month, she is on my case to extract said amount to fill up the corresponding void in her bank account. In more cases than not, my cheques would eventually be submitted almost two weeks from first request (it should be stated that subsequent requests drop in etiquette in direct relation to the rise in urgency over this same period). However, my debts do get paid off, but rarely without riling up the poor missus!

Money matters most foul, particularly because often when I find that I cannot seem to convince the missus that my debt to her has been paid, my knee-jerk reaction is to just offer to pay again rather than spend another minute juggling the numbers or having to explain myself again.

This way however I lose financially but console myself that I am ahead. After all, at least I can die a man who can rest assured that his debt has been honoured (even if it is in some instances twice over; although this is definitely not a chronic occurrence – if it has happened even once!).

I find that when it comes to wrapping my brain around a complex series of numbers and dates, surprisingly my patience can run short; especially once I have satisfactorily (to myself at least) come to an acceptable resolution to the elusive puzzle. Almost like my brain will release the frail train of thought unless it is grasped and agreed by all and sundry immediately.

Where is my pat on the back, I say? Thankfully, I am so convinced of my brilliance with my wispy numerical juggling that I am easy to discard any notion of possible ill-conception. It's best to not discuss money or be in a position of debt to people most personal and close.

Such pride (arrogance?) does not always play favourably with the missus though. One does hope that she comes around sooner rather than later (one can always hope).

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