It has occurred to me this morning that it's 2017 and still no one has discovered how to grow a money tree! What is that about?
When I was younger I suppose I had some strange and very naive ideas about money. Somehow I believed that if you were a good person and didn't care about materialistic things that eventually you would be rewarded. Your fairy godmother would appear and grant you three wishes: ABRA CADABRA! You lived happily ever after!
Yes, it is handy being deluded sometimes. Except when it isn't. And you wake up one day and you're middle aged, living in a less than glamorous house, in a less than glamorous suburb, shopping at Aldi. But enough about that. After all, I don't want to make you jealous!
For as long as I can remember, my parents always had the same old conversation about winning the lotto. I'm never going to win it because I never take a ticket. So I'm waiting for my parents to win it for me and share the proceedings. Any day now... It's only been 40 odd years or so of waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting...
About a hundred million years ago (give or take a few years), when I was very young and working, I did manage to save a chunk of money. I think I was always very sensible with it, not a spend thrift. However, it's easy to be that way when you live with your parents, don't have a car or a social life.
There are advantages to being a born and bred 'westie'. I don't seem to value or care about a lot of things or see the point in them. A car is just a car to me. Labels mean less than nothing to me.
A couple of years ago I used to attend a now defunct writing group. The lady who ran the group was some sort of counselor or 'life coach' or something. She said that many of her clients were in so much debt, yet when she suggested that they just buy clothes at Target or K Mart they were completely horrified and insisted that they could NEVER do that! Really? I don't understand that.
I suppose it's easy to decide you don't care about materialistic shit when you have so few employable skills. This does tend to make it rather difficult to achieve and sustain employment. I'm not sure WHY employers don't value knowing the lyrics to every Carpenters song. That is some serious skillz, people! Sniff.
But back to money...
It seems that Mickey Blue Eyes and I have a rather old school approach to money. Which is this: avoid debt. If you can't afford it, you can't have it. The end.
Meanwhile, it seems like every other bastard (meant in the most affectionate way) is buying or building their dream home and travelling around the world. Either they have so much more money than us or so much more debt (and either way it's none of my business). Sometimes I'm left wondering if we're the stupid ones for being so wary of delightful old debt. Sigh.
We are lucky enough to own a house but it's not exactly our dream house. But even less than glamorous houses in less than glamorous suburbs in Sydney are worth a bit these days. The problem is, the next house would be worth MORE.
That's the thing about living in Sydney. I genuinely have no interest in a big fuck off McMansion. I've visited a couple of exhibition homes and all the bright, shiny whiteness makes this old Aspie seasick. But even a relatively modest home in Sydney is so frightfully expensive! What is a simple soul to do?
We could always move to Dubbo. But I better not give Mickey Blue Eyes any ideas...
Anyway, there is a saying: where ever you go, there you are. As long as I have my health, family and some books it's all good. Who needs a money tree as long as you have the faraway tree?
What are your thoughts about money and debt?
When I was younger I suppose I had some strange and very naive ideas about money. Somehow I believed that if you were a good person and didn't care about materialistic things that eventually you would be rewarded. Your fairy godmother would appear and grant you three wishes: ABRA CADABRA! You lived happily ever after!
Yes, it is handy being deluded sometimes. Except when it isn't. And you wake up one day and you're middle aged, living in a less than glamorous house, in a less than glamorous suburb, shopping at Aldi. But enough about that. After all, I don't want to make you jealous!
For as long as I can remember, my parents always had the same old conversation about winning the lotto. I'm never going to win it because I never take a ticket. So I'm waiting for my parents to win it for me and share the proceedings. Any day now... It's only been 40 odd years or so of waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting...
There are advantages to being a born and bred 'westie'. I don't seem to value or care about a lot of things or see the point in them. A car is just a car to me. Labels mean less than nothing to me.
A couple of years ago I used to attend a now defunct writing group. The lady who ran the group was some sort of counselor or 'life coach' or something. She said that many of her clients were in so much debt, yet when she suggested that they just buy clothes at Target or K Mart they were completely horrified and insisted that they could NEVER do that! Really? I don't understand that.
I suppose it's easy to decide you don't care about materialistic shit when you have so few employable skills. This does tend to make it rather difficult to achieve and sustain employment. I'm not sure WHY employers don't value knowing the lyrics to every Carpenters song. That is some serious skillz, people! Sniff.
But back to money...
It seems that Mickey Blue Eyes and I have a rather old school approach to money. Which is this: avoid debt. If you can't afford it, you can't have it. The end.
Meanwhile, it seems like every other bastard (meant in the most affectionate way) is buying or building their dream home and travelling around the world. Either they have so much more money than us or so much more debt (and either way it's none of my business). Sometimes I'm left wondering if we're the stupid ones for being so wary of delightful old debt. Sigh.
We are lucky enough to own a house but it's not exactly our dream house. But even less than glamorous houses in less than glamorous suburbs in Sydney are worth a bit these days. The problem is, the next house would be worth MORE.
That's the thing about living in Sydney. I genuinely have no interest in a big fuck off McMansion. I've visited a couple of exhibition homes and all the bright, shiny whiteness makes this old Aspie seasick. But even a relatively modest home in Sydney is so frightfully expensive! What is a simple soul to do?
We could always move to Dubbo. But I better not give Mickey Blue Eyes any ideas...
Anyway, there is a saying: where ever you go, there you are. As long as I have my health, family and some books it's all good. Who needs a money tree as long as you have the faraway tree?
What are your thoughts about money and debt?
