Crazy and Crazier July 18, 2008

To say that I have some neurotic tendencies would be an understatement.

One of these neurotic tendencies involves money.  I grew up in a family where money was scarce at quite a few turns and God bless my parents, but we always knew about it.  This coupled with a lack of any sort of financial management skills has led me down many a wrong path in my day.  I have credit card debit equivalent to the GNP of a small nation and student loans in the amount some people (quite a few) pay for a house.  I’m learning to deal with it all as an adult and in stride.  Hell, one of the hallmarks of our generation is the stale-mate of wages and existence of debt of all kinds.

We got a counter-offer to our offer on the house today.  Up until now I was doing alright.  I knew that a house equaled more expenses (taxes, insurance, water bills…things you don’t pay when renting).  But today when we were forced to counter, I started breathing really heavy. I probably started talking really fast and erratically as well.  It’s a damn good thing I wasn’t driving or operating heavy machinery. (Side note:  they tell you not to drive or operate heavy machinery while on certain drugs, but they never tell you not to do it when engaging in an anxiety-inducing activity.  Just a thought)

I was able to get it together enough to form an opinion, but I just couldn’t help but start to feel that maybe we were making some huge mistake.  Maybe this isn’t the right house.  Maybe we’ve set our limit too high.  Maybe we need to rethink things.  Maybe…Maybe….Maybe.

The thing is that I’m never going to be comfortable making a big purchase.  The Mister and I went back and forth for days over spending money on our last vacation.  I get this excitement over the end product, but then when it comes time to discuss the financial side, I lose track of time and end up in the fetal-position on my office floor, sucking my thumb and reviving from a Lost-style flashback.  Well, maybe not literally.  But it sure feels like it.

I need to learn to be comfortable with things like this.

My method of coping–over analyzing.  Since I’m too tired to do it now, I plan on doing a complete overhaul of our budget to ensure that we can, in fact, afford this.

I just hope my neuroses ends up balancing the checkbook as well.

And if it’s not too busy, maybe it could clean up my spare bedroom.  That place is a mess!

Thunderstorm on my Parade July 16, 2008

People (and by “people” I mean my therapists over the years) wonder where I get this keen sense of self-deprecation.  I’d like to say it was something I was born with so that no one can be blamed or lauded for its development.  But I can’t.

I can never just be happy about something.  I always have to be happy and then run through the downsides.

“Yes I passed the bar exam, but now I have to pay bar dues.”

“Of course it’s great to get engaged, but how will we pay for a wedding?”

“Winning a scholarship is great, but it doesn’t cover all of school.”

You may (and probably should) ask, “where does one get such a great sense of self?” How do you ground yourself when the excitement overcomes you?

Easy…my parents.

I have millions of examples how I can’t let a triumph be a triumph for too long (gets your head too big).  But tonight I was reminded, yet again, how this lovely little thing in myself developed.  See the Mister and I decided it’s time to get a house and we found one we both love. (He calls it a Mr. Belvedere house–another story for another day.)  I tell my parents and although I know they’re happy, I get little excitement and much rational questioning.

“How many square feet?  Really?  That’s not that big.  Our house is bigger.”

“Make sure you go through and write down what appliances are there–they might switch them out on you before the inspection.”

“I thought that one had a small yard.” (Which is false–the yard is huge.)

All my life I thought that I was fearful of being happy because I fear contentment, but I realize now that it’s a groundless fear–I’ll never truly be content.  There has not been one point in my life where I’ve felt elation that hasn’t been followed by no-nonsense questions about the consequences.

I could be totally upset by this.  In fact, some might be crushed.  But I have come to learn that this has grown from a mere fascination of what could be to a survival mechanism.  I can shrug off a second-place finish like a pro.  I know when to savor it and I know when to check the temperature.

Tonight I’m savoring the fact that the phone hasn’t rung back yet.  I told you it’s a survival mechanism.

I’d like to think it keeps me grounded.  Well, at least that’s my rational explanation for it.