I began reading newspapers – well one newspaper, The Weekend Australian about a month ago. The world is just as interesting now as it was when I stopped thinking around 1998. (Really it is, I’m loving it.)
To my joy the Australian last Saturday has begun talking to me and about me. I discovered I am one of many Calculating Women.(Calculating Women by Anna Fenech is not online – so if you want to actually know something stop reading now.)
I thought I was just stupid and disorganised all on my own, but I found out there are a whole lot of us who know all about paying bills and bugger all about much else to do with money.
I was recently made aware that I drag reasonable money as a high school teacher and that having a clue about how much money is in the bank is not a bad idea, further, it is also possible to know how much superannuation you have and how much you owe on your mortgage. This is infact real basic housekeeping – the brand of which I’ve been blissfully unaware.
I figure I must have a kind of slap-dash genius for finance because I hardly ever get told my card won’t work. I’m pretty humble and it’s not hard to make me happy. I could say that up till now I’ve got as much of this world’s goods as I want and can do ‘whatever comes next’ without many worries.
On the strength of Calculating Women and my new found community of financially fucked females I am inspired to act.
So I ditch the contents of the filing cabinet because everything stinks and is fuzzy with evil black spot mould. Buy an expanding folder and collect every piece of paper I kept in the house (rather than the shed) that I thought might be important.
Not too bad. Last year when I took stock and did about 6 years of tax returns I paid off a HECS debt and got a deposit for a mortgage. This time all the medical stuff and uncashed cheques has paid the bills and I discover that after a year of absolutely no idea I’m breaking even. Fuck’n genius. Only one group Certificate AWOL.
I keep reading and there I am again. Anna is still talking about me and the techniques I employ to ensure survival:
– there’s always the old ‘Prince Charming’ theory, failing that; ‘the something will turn up’ approach and finally; the oh fuck it ‘I’ll do it myself then’ – she continues all the way through to the progressive stages of – Financial Sufficiency, Financial Awareness, Financial Development and ultimately Financial Independence.
I identify me in every word, locate myself as Financially Aware, finish the article and become vaguely uneasy about my bank accounts – I don’t know my balances.
Am I worried? – Not a jot. She’ll be right mate prevails until I reach further into the Awareness stage – I feel it coming on and that’s when my chest begins to tighten.
Ignorance is bliss and innocence once lost can never be regained. I’m on the money train now and am looking forward to a modestly superannuated future. Now I’ve opened the Business Extra by myself and there is no going back. The halcyon days of wealth by financial oblivion are over as I realise I am not Financially Independent in any meaningful sense and nor am I rich. And to think I was both those things just a few hours ago.
That is depressing!