Because a True Gentleman Never Knows what He has in the Bank
In practical terms, I ought to be not very worse off now that the economy is in recession,
the middle classes are discovering just how little financial institutions really care about them
now that the courting period is over and all those expensive properties have racked up plentiful mortgages,
and The World Is About To End because Joe and Mary can no longer afford vanilla lattes,
never mind their brief, exalted position as petty landlords to the plebs.
Having very little in the way of assets,
I'm a little better off coz I'm paying less rent for a better apartment,
a little worse off coz of the extra tax hike and no pay rise,
but still "lucky" to have kept my job.
All in all, pretty much the same.
SO WHY AM I SO BROKE?
Is it because the recession has magically slid its necrotic fingers into my pocket, fondled my wallet, and stripped it bare?
Has the general malaise of the penny-pinching gloom-mongers infected all financial security with its money-melting breath?
Can I find someone to blame and lobby the government into propping up my personal financial affairs?
Alas, no, I have simply been living somewhat beyond my slender means.
It is time to hitch one's socks up, cut down on the expensive lunches and mini-breaks,
and do something pro-active about having less cash.
So I'm finally applying for rent relief (how many years later?),
I'm getting up earlier to buy lunch at M&S before work (saving €25 a week),
paying sensible amounts off my (thankfully not too badly abused) credit card,
reading the books and watching the DVDs I've accumulated but not got through yet,
pestering Attitude to pay me for the last couple of articles I wrote before writing any new ones,
and, in the long term, writing a commercially viable new novel to kickstart a financially stable life, should work go tits up.
I've always hated thinking about money, work, responsibility and all their encumbant woes, but one must sometimes swim with the tide.
After all, it's fashionable to count one's pennies at the mo, and never let it be said I am not acquainted - on nodding terms, even - with fashion.
the middle classes are discovering just how little financial institutions really care about them
now that the courting period is over and all those expensive properties have racked up plentiful mortgages,
and The World Is About To End because Joe and Mary can no longer afford vanilla lattes,
never mind their brief, exalted position as petty landlords to the plebs.
Having very little in the way of assets,
I'm a little better off coz I'm paying less rent for a better apartment,
a little worse off coz of the extra tax hike and no pay rise,
but still "lucky" to have kept my job.
All in all, pretty much the same.
SO WHY AM I SO BROKE?
Is it because the recession has magically slid its necrotic fingers into my pocket, fondled my wallet, and stripped it bare?
Has the general malaise of the penny-pinching gloom-mongers infected all financial security with its money-melting breath?
Can I find someone to blame and lobby the government into propping up my personal financial affairs?
Alas, no, I have simply been living somewhat beyond my slender means.
It is time to hitch one's socks up, cut down on the expensive lunches and mini-breaks,
and do something pro-active about having less cash.
So I'm finally applying for rent relief (how many years later?),
I'm getting up earlier to buy lunch at M&S before work (saving €25 a week),
paying sensible amounts off my (thankfully not too badly abused) credit card,
reading the books and watching the DVDs I've accumulated but not got through yet,
pestering Attitude to pay me for the last couple of articles I wrote before writing any new ones,
and, in the long term, writing a commercially viable new novel to kickstart a financially stable life, should work go tits up.
I've always hated thinking about money, work, responsibility and all their encumbant woes, but one must sometimes swim with the tide.
After all, it's fashionable to count one's pennies at the mo, and never let it be said I am not acquainted - on nodding terms, even - with fashion.