It comes to something when I spend a lot of time trying to figure out just why I am so broke when I get paid a good salary, don't have an glitzy or expensive lifestyle and don't feck away money on such nice-ities as cosmetics, clothes or shoes (thanks to generous sisters who actually subsidise me to an extraordinary degree). For no particular reason, I am so broke this month and last that I haven't gone out. Not once. No wonder I am going slightly bonkers: I only have my own company. I'm not that interesting to keep even my own interest engaged that long. My best mate Sinead has a Slow Boat to China theory which I won't go into here, but suffice to say that I wouldn't be my own SBTC companion. I would bore whatever wits I have left right out of my noodle.
Oh, and did I mention that my old age will be even worse as I appear to have the Incredible Shrinking Pension Fund? Also, it has recently dawned on me that what seemed like a good idea at 24, i.e., to set the retirement age at 70 in order to max up the fund, is insanity.
Anyway, I have just spent a horrible couple of hours going over accounts, figures, expenses, income, etc., and have come to the conclusion that I am, in fact, two people. One who obsessively worries about this kind of thing, and another who just steals from the first one. And then does nothing with the cash, just burns it.
Think I may be losing the will to live. Yup. There it goes. Sigh.
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