Property and progress

Progress!  Wife and I met today over lunch and signed with a real estate agent to list our house for sale!  She (the agent) showed us some recent sales in our area, and it seems likely that we might even have a couple of bucks left over in our pockets after we pay off all the debts.  Not wealth, you understand, but anything would be nice.

I was humming and whistling all the way back to the office.  I mean … our house is nice enough, as houses go (or it would be if we’d ever taken care of it).  Really, there’s nothing seriously wrong with it that a little investment and sweat wouldn’t fix.  If any of you is looking for a nice fixer-upper or else a place to start a small family, let me put you in touch with our agent.

The only thing is that I never wanted to own a house at all – not really, although I talked myself into it for a little while.  But really I went along with buying the place to please Wife, and for nineteen years it’s been a weight on my mind and heart that I had to be responsible for it.  And in fact the house deserves better than to be owned by somebody who doesn’t want to own property.

And soon, I won’t any more.  Progress.

Two kinds of joy

Last weekend I went with Debbie to a meditation retreat.  I enjoyed it … part of me wants to say it was restful, but in fact I was exhausted when we got back.  But the quiet and clarity were delightful, and I can see why people love it so much.  Some of the people there were actually monastics – Buddhist monks – and of course that takes “loving it” to a whole new level.  Maybe not quite something I aspire to.  Still, it was a good way to spend the weekend.

Saturday evening there was a kind of “talent show” or fun get-together of all the guests at the retreat, where people could tell jokes or stories, recite poems, or whatever they felt like.  For a few minutes I debated internally about quoting the Sarah Teasdale poem on my sidebar, but finally decided against it.  The turbulence, or urgency, or passion of that last stanza seemed somehow out of place in a retreat devoted to calm, quiet, and mindfulness.

And yet, I wasn’t completely happy with that answer.  After all, Teasdale’s poem talks about the years of strife being in the service of that “one white, shining hour of peace”.  The hour of peace can’t be out of place as a Buddhist goal, and more than once the event organizers repeated that without suffering there can be no compassion.  So it was a puzzle, and I spent some time puzzling over it.

I’m not sure I came to any profound resolution, but in the process I did see a totally unexpected commonality between the way of passion and the way of mindfulness.  And over the next couple of days I tried to spell it out.  I came up with this:

The forest’s dry as tinder. Just a spark,

And all the hill will come alive with flame –

A shining beacon, bright against the dark,

That swallows whole your home and life and name.

Just so it is with passion. Once alight,

All obstacles restraining it are lost.

Friends, reputation, family, sense of right –

Joy torches in a smoking holocaust.

For quiet, seek the Joy of mindfulness:

A candle sheltered from the blust’ring storm –

No death nor ruin, anguish nor distress –

No bonfire, but a lamp that’s light and warm.

Yet e’en this lamp will burn up all you have.

For if you chase this Joy to where it lives,

You’ll leave your home, your work, your kin, your love,

Your very name when Dharm’ a new name gives.

What mystery for wise men to admire:

Why Joy must be an all-consuming fire!

Deer in the headlights

Wife has been talking to realtors about what it would take to sell the house … among them two, named Anthony and Marsha.  A while ago she told me she didn’t want to work with Anthony, but apparently she didn’t tell him that; so he called me a while ago, asking what’s up.  I e-mailed Wife asking the same question, and got a huge long response which probably conveys pretty fairly what kind of mental space she’s in right now.  It ain’t pretty.

Some selections:

Hosea,

Yes, he called me. He wanted to know what to tell his buyer, who was wondering if he should "move on". I told him we were still interested in his buyer, but that we (you and I) were going to meet this Friday. I just didn't mention Marsha one way or the other. I figured there was time to do that if we decided to sign with her, which we probably will.

He upset me a lot, and knew it, which is probably why he called you. He said he expected the largest hurdle would be for me to find alternative housing, informing me that there wasn't any available, that rentals are scarce, and that it will cost me $2000-2,300 to find a 2-bedroom apartment. Well, of course I won't have that much. I don't even know how much I'll have yet, but not that much. I've been assuming rent at around $1,500 tops for a 2-bed, 1 bath, and that's already more than my own income, so would have to include part of what you give me, not counting all my other bills (just my credit card minimum payments are $340/mo.). I don't even know if that's possible, and he left me in despair and crying because I'd have to leave here, which I love, all my medical care, all my friends, and all that's familiar. Just learning how not to get lost in a new town would be a very big deal for me. I finally told him I couldn't talk to him any more about it and hung up.

I have been looking in the newspaper, and have found a few one-bedrooms for rent for around $1,200-$1,300, but, as I discussed with you, I feel like I need two [bedrooms] with the kids. Leia tells me to look on Craigslist because renters don't want to pay for newspaper ads so that's where they post rentals. Marsha sent me some rental ads that go through her company as property managers earlier but all for one-beds. They all looked ok for just me at around $1,250, but nowhere for my stuff or the kids. I'm not out actively searching because if I found something, I'd have to put deposits on it and pay for it until we sold the house, and I wouldn't have the income to do that. I'm going to have to rent something just maybe 2 weeks before this house actually closes, but be READY to move by then so it's just logistics. I do still have the one friend downtown who usually has an apartment every couple-few months. It depends on if she does. There are two 2-beds in one 12-apartment building, none in the other 12-apt building. The 1-beds are normally $1375 but she'd charge me $1275, the 2-beds are normally $1650 but she'd charge me $1475. They're No Pets, but they'd let me have the cats with an extra deposit. They're nothing special -- built in the 1950's and everything is old, on X and Y streets, near the old high school, not the best neighborhood, all minorities, but not the least safe neighborhood, either. They'd do, though I'd sure miss this house, the quiet, the view. I've made NO progress towards finding housing at all. But that means that I'll have to look

Anyway, Anthony: IF we went with Anthony's buyer -- and Marsha isn't so sure that's a good idea -- it won't take long for the house to sell. It would just be escrow…. It's unfortunate that we are selling it, because Anthony is right that people who HAVE property are making good money off it. If we had the money to fix this up to rent, we could refi it, rent it, and make money on it, but you want to disentwine our finances ASAP. Prices are continuing to rise, and if we could hold it for a while, we would probably get more out of it. Unless the Feds raise interest rates, and then the buyers will have less to work with, and we might get less. Marsha thinks she can move it aggressively and quickly…. The problem with that is that I have all sorts of realtors tracking people through here all the time. I'll feel like I have to get it sparkling clean and tidy and keep it that way, and frankly, that is a LOT of work to sell it as-is. I'm not even sure I'm up to it. Marsha told me not to worry about it: she has contacts with all sorts of people, such as professional cleaners who can come in and clean it top to bottom one time for far less than I've found (but we'd still have to pay for it, and I'd still have to tidy it first), gardeners who won't relandscape but will limit the fire hazard and tidy both yards (see above), and other contacts to make my life easier.

But that still leaves me the question of where I'm going to live, which also leaves the question of where we're going to put the kids's things. Anthony basically told me that we didn't have a deal because the mortgage here is less than I'll have to pay for much less space somewhere else, and that there is no way I can stay not just in town, but even in the area. I'd have to move past Town1 or Town2, maybe to far-away Town3 or even Town4. Well, that put me in tears. Those places don't even HAVE the quality of health care I have here, and I'm not even capable of making the commute. Trading off the kids would be a huge issue. It would be even if I went to Town1 or Town2, and so would seeing my doctors, much less my friends. Having to leave here is heart-breaking to me. You've told me "You'll have your money: you can live anywhere you want", but of course you don't mean that. You mean "You can live anywhere you can afford, and I really don't care where that is". But I think you do, insofar as trading off the kids would be very difficult if I were in somewhere like Town4, and you wouldn't want to drive it to, say, give me Son 2 for a day. I know your job is here, but so is everything relevant to me. And other people commute from Town1 or Town2, so so could you. If I have to go that far, it seems like it would make sense for both of us to do it so that we could at least trade off the boys easily. But I don't want to leave. And, if I have to, I can live in a one-bedroom apartment. I guess I could give the boys the room and put my bed in the living room. Tacky as hell. Otherwise, one idea was to take the bedroom myself and put a day bed with trundle bed in the living room in place of a sofa (this one is really shot), and let them sleep there when they're with me. But we still have to provide space for their stuff. They shouldn't lose everything, even if I/we do, and I really do have things I'd cry to lose. For example, I'll trim my books again, but I do read. I'm very isolated. I don't work like you do. Many of my books are things I cannot get at a non-scholarly library, and I've been reading things I never got to in grad school with pleasure (I found The Barbarian Conversion, BTW). I know I have to get rid of most of my stuff, even my trunks (sad!), but really, really don't feel like I can get rid of all of it. My budget doesn't even include clothing right now (it will have to in the long run: I have to buy underwear, shoes, and jeans), so I'd need to keep at least my Bernina and serger, sewing supplies, and very best fabric. I truly couldn't afford to replace it: one of the reasons people don't sew clothing anymore is that it's MORE expensive than buying ready-to-wear made in foreign countries out of inexpensive material with virtually free labor, and here actual fabric stores are rare and the stuff is way marked up, with little selection. I'd truly have to go to the garment district in[the big metropolis a few hours from here] to buy fabric, and couldn't afford it. It truly has to go with. I will, of course, pare relentlessly. And there are heirlooms.

Either way, we're going to have to work out where to put the stuff THEY want to keep. They shouldn't have to give up all their stuff. For example, this week they've both been playing extensively with their Legos. They want them. They have books, trophies, and one of the things I worry about is that they just have "stuff to do" here that they won't have when we're both in apartments. For example, Son 2 is making two more pepperwood staves; one for me and one for him at Durmstrang. They've been making paper match rockets. Here, they can always rummage around the work bench and find ingredients for projects, and they have outside in which to do things, like shoot Son 2's B.B. gun. Where can he do that from your apartment, or mine when I move? That will be gone. General supplies of stuff I just keep to run a house will all be gone. I hope each boy can keep one tool box of his tools. I've given Son 1 some really good ones (Craftsman),and have enough to make three boxes (and the boxes). I assume I'll need one basic tool box wherever I live (how do you live without basic tools? I've only done it once and kept having to borrow stuff from my Mom). We have triplicates; quadruplicates if you want some too, and an extra box. Everything else will go out in a garage sale. The kids "play" with tools when they're here. A lot of creative stuff will be closed to them, because we just have general supplies here that won't go with. Son 1 isn't at all sentimental, but Son 2 is. They should be able to keep things like yearbooks, too.

It's not even great as is not having space for Son 1 to sleep in his room, and they haven't been willing to help me clean it enough that they can put their stuff in their room, so it's ALL over the living room. Even though I've vacuumed part of the house, largely because Son 2's been miserable here [with allergies because she never vacuums up the cat hair], I can't possibly vacuum the living room or their room, which is where they're sleeping. I will have to have their help next time rearranging stuff, even if it's a short-term solution, and having Son 1 help me move things so I can clean for Son 2's sake. I'll do what I can between now and then.

BTW, I haven't even paid the bills or been doing the paperwork you demanded -- another deer in the headlights issue. Yes I got the letter from your lawyer, and will comply. I know I've dragged my heels, but you could've just TOLD me you needed it and given me a deadline or threatened me with the letter from your lawyer, which would have saved money. I would've done it. I will e-mail you my questions, but I've tried to do the form three times and gotten so frustrated I cried. It really will be the first thing after paying bills I do tomorrow. I'm not saying I will FINISH it tomorrow, but I will work on it. I'm counting on your having found the numbers for things like the credit union and my life insurance because I have no idea how to reach those people, haven't seen a statement in years, don't have account numbers -- in short, can't produce the information. I don't even know how much of my SSDI I pay in Medicare premiums per month, which is one of the things I have to list. If you do know, or can find out, please tell me. That is definitely ONE of my major questions.

I'm going to go get dressed to take the boys to the movies now. It will distract me from sky-high stress levels.

Wife

Gosh, Babe, maybe you want to relax just a bit?

I wrote back as follows:

Hi there,

I can’t tell if this letter contained a question, or if you were just letting me know what space you are in.  But it does sound like maybe you are trying to do too many things at the same time, with the result that it is hard to concentrate on any single one of them.  For example, I think you may find it difficult to deal at the very same time with BOTH the question “How do we sell the house?” AND ALSO the question “Where do I live after that?”  I’d recommend taking them one at a time: first comes what to do about the house, and only afterwards comes where to live next.  Because it is humanly impossible to answer all the questions at once, and it just immobilizes you.  Besides, there will always be places to live (heck, I found one), so you don’t have to have that nailed down first thing.

You raise a bunch of other questions too, about storage and paperwork and so on, but I think the same advice applies to all of them.  Pick just one – for example, maybe the one with the earliest deadline – and tackle that, while ignoring the rest.  When that question’s answered, take the one with the next earliest deadline, and do it again.  Repeat as needed.

One way to think about it might be, “Am I going to make a better decision on this question today than I will make tomorrow? Probably NOT … since I’m not going to have a lobotomy tomorrow, my brain will work the SAME way tomorrow that it does right now. So this means I’ll make the SAME decision tomorrow that I would have made today. So this means I can afford to WAIT till tomorrow on THIS question, allowing me to spend today on THAT one.”  Or instead of “today” and “tomorrow” you can substitute “this week” and “next week” (or whatever) if you are talking about big decisions that will take a while to figure out. 

This is just advice, by the way.  If you don’t want to take it, you don’t have to.  Entirely up to you.  But it’s what I’d do.

Hosea

crazy spending? why do I even care?

A couple days ago I whined to you that Wife went out and bought a bed at the same time that she claims she is destitute.  And you very likely wndered, “Hosea, why are you even telling us this? You’ve already established long since that when it comes to spending money, Wife has the discrimination and self-control of an alley cat in heat … or at least you’ve said it often enough. Why bend our ears with one more example? Why, for God’s sake, do you even care?”

An excellent question.  You might have thought that it would have occurred to me too, but no such luck.

On the other hand, last night I attended a meditation group with Debbie, one that meets weekly and that we have been visiting pretty regularly.  In lieu of a dharma talk they were reading a book about how to use meditation to improve your life, and last night they got to a technique for dealing with strong emotions (and the catastrophes in our lives which cause them) that goes under the acronym RAIN: Recognize what is going on right now, Allow it to be what it is (e.g., if you’re angry or ashamed don’t pretend you aren’t), Investigate it with kindness, and then practice Non-identification with the feeling (so that the anger or shame or whatever aren’t you and aren’t yours, they are just like a wave that is passing through you on its way somewhere else).

Sounds great.  What does that mean?  I’m not quite sure, but Debbie suggested (most gently) that it might be useful for me to try this exercise as a tool for understanding why I got so irritated at hearing Wife’s news about buying a bed.

How can I resist a beautiful woman?

So, first things first.  What was even going on for me?  What exactly was I really feeling?  Was it (as Debbie suggested) anger and frustration?  Hmmm.  Frustration, maybe, but not anger.  More like despite, or contempt.  Judgement, to say the least.  And yes, serious frustration.

Really?  Why?

For making a damn-fool buying decision … no, wait, for making yet one more damn-fool buying decision. 

What does “damn-fool” mean in this context? 

It means that her decision was wrong on the face of it.  It means she can’t distinguish between things she needs now and things she wants for later. 

I see.  So she should have done something different.  Tell me, is this stuff written down somewhere in a big book?  Is there somewhere she could have looked it up to find out what she should have chosen instead?

Well no, of course not.  Not literally.  But everyone else in the world can tell the difference – why can’t she? 

Everyone?

I sure wouldn’t have made that choice, in her shoes!

I see.  It kind of sounds like you are saying that in this context, “damn-fool decision” means more or less the same thing as “decision that Hosea disagrees with”.  Have I got that right?

Ummm, … not exactly.  I don’t know.  Well, maybe.

I see.  And so the fact that she disagrees with you bothers you exactly … why, again?

Because it is stupid and self-defeating.  Look: she blames me for never having any money and being in huge debt, and then she spends money she doesn’t have on things she doesn’t need.  Well no wonder she’s broke and in debt!  But it’s something she is causing for herself, and nothing that’s my fault.

Wait a minute.  Is the problem that she makes these decisions, or that she blames you for their consequences?

Both, I guess.  But damn, she’d better not start whining about being broke again, or I’m going to remind her of this!

I see.  Of course now you actually sound kind of glad that it happened, so that you can use it as evidence to prove that she’s Wrong in some hypothetical future argument.  Is that right?

What?  I don’t know.  Maybe, I guess.  Oh, all right, yes.  I’m looking forward to proving that I’m Right and She’s Wrong.

Sounds like there’s some ego invested in your opinions, and like part of what irritates you is that she has the gall to disagree with your “Obviously-Superior” sense of priorities.  Is that it?

Well no, it’s not just about me.  I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?  Can’t anyone with any brains see that the right prioritization is the one I would have made and not the one that she would have made?  There’s nothing egotistical about it.  It’s just that I’m the one who is right!  Or, … well … OK, maybe I see your point.

Don’t feel dejected.  It is what it is.  If part of your reaction is about ego, then that’s what is.  Recognize it, and then Allow it to be what it is.

Right.

So is that the whole deal?

Oh no, there’s more.  That was just a sidebar, in fact.

Fine, what else is going on?

Well, I hate being blamed all the time.  She does it a lot and it always makes me mad because it feels so unfair.

Why does it make you feel bad?

Because nobody likes being blamed for something unfairly!

I’m not sure I understand how that is really a reason.  Why does being blamed make you feel bad?

Look – blaming me for something means she’s saying that I did something to make her miserable.  But I don’t want to make her miserable.  I don’t want to make anybody miserable.  And so I hate that she’s miserable at all, in the first place.  Plus it makes me squirm that she thinks I’m the one who caused her misery, when I thought I was doing the right thing.

Let me be sure I understand, because you are saying several things here.  First, you say that Wife’s misery makes you miserable, … that it is contagious, or something like that.

Yes, exactly.

But then you also say that her opinion of you makes you miserable too, because the way she sees you – the way she characterizes your behavior – is so very different from the way you see yourself.

Ummm, … yes.

Do you care about everybody else’s opinion in the world?  Or just hers?  Or what?  Let me put it this way: for any issue you can think of, there are some people in the world who are passionately in favor and others who are passionately opposed.  Does this fact cause you to lose a lot of sleep at night?

No, it doesn’t.

So do you care about everybody’s opinion?  Everybody in the world?

I guess not.

But you care about hers.  Why?

[pause]  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s just habit, because I spent so many years caring for her and about her.  And I guess I still care about her, to some extent.

OK.  Anything else?

Maybe it’s just that she knows me, and has known me for a long time.  And I hate to think that someone who has known me for so long could think so poorly of me.

Do you mean, you hate to think that someone who has known you for so long could understand you so differently from the way you understand yourself?

I guess.

I see.  Incidentally, how’s that working for you?

[chuckles]  Not so well, I guess.

Anything else?

Like what?

You tell me.  I’m just thinking, though, that if she told you the sky is paisley, it wouldn’t bother you so much … or at any rate it would bother you in a very different way.

I suppose that’s true.  What’s your point?

Is there any possible chance you could believe that the sky really is paisley?

Instead of blue?  No.

So if somebody said it is, you’d just write her off (or him) as crazy.  Right?  It wouldn’t eat at you.

True.

But when Wife says you’re being cruel to her, it eats at you.

Yes.

What’s the difference?

Are you asking, “What’s the difference between (a) Wife accusing me of deliberate cruelty, and (b) someone claiming the sky is paisley?”

That’s my question.

Well (b) is absurd.  I can dismiss it out of hand.

And (a)?

Well I sure think it’s absurd.  But it’s not like saying the sky is paisley.  I mean, everybody else can see that the sky is blue, too.  But if other people looked at things in the twisted, self-centered way she does, they might start thinking the same things she thinks.

They might?

Well I don’t know.  But it’s possible.  She thinks it, after all.

Could they be right?

What?

Could they be right?  Is it possible that maybe she’s right after all, and you are doing the things you do in order to make her suffer?

Of course not!  How can you say that?  Don’t you know how often I have bent over backwards for her?  Don’t you know … oh hell, I don’t know.  Anything is possible, maybe.  I sure don’t think that’s true, though.

Have you ever had cruel thoughts about Wife?

Wait a minute, back off!  What are you saying?  I’m not a cruel person!

But only a few minutes ago you admitted that you were really pretty pleased that you could use one of Wife’s mistakes against her, that you could rub her nose in it, that you could shame her for making a stupid decision, and that you could beat her in an argument.

Did I?  Oh … right.  That.  [pause]  Damn.

So have you ever had cruel thoughts about Wife?

I guess I’m not going to get very far by saying “No” am I?

Have you?

Yes, I guess so.

Which is the real Hosea?  The kind one or the cruel one?  Do you think there’s a chance that the cruel one is the real you?  Is that why it upsets you so much when Wife says it?

I don’t know.  I don’t think that’s it, really.  But I feel all tangled up right now.  Maybe anything’s possible and I’m just really confused.

Or not.  Let’s try another possibility.  What if it turns out that you have been cruel by accident, through negligence or inattention.  Is that possible?

I guess.

Have you ever been negligent or inattentive in other personal relationships?

God, yes.

Are you afraid of doing it again?

Always.

Is there a chance you have been with Wife?

Well it would be consistent, that’s for sure.

Is that what you feel when Wife starts to complain about you?  Do you feel like hitting yourself in the forehead and shouting, “How could I have missed doing this or that? What was I thinking?”  Because if yes, then maybe the reason you care about her opinion is that you think it points to a negligence you fear is real.

It’s not quite that, though.  What I want to say, … what I want to scream, rather, is more like, “My God, woman, what do you want from me? Is nothing ever good enough? What does it take for you to stop sticking me with pins? Where are the boundaries? What are the rules to this game we’re playing?”

OK, you’re right that that’s a little different.  Do you mean she really never tells you what she wants, but then complains when you don’t do it?

Yeah.  Well, sometimes at least.  Maybe sometimes she spells out what she wants.

But once she complains about something, then that should tell you that was something she wanted, shouldn’t it?

Yes.

Does she ever complain about the same thing over again?  Or is it always something new?

Oh no, she complains about the same things over and over again.  And over again, for good measure.

So by the third or fourth time, you have a pretty good idea of what she wants?

Yes.

Do you give it to her?

Sure.  Well, sometimes.  I think.

Always?

No.

So what you’re telling me now is that she tells you she wants something (maybe by complaining that you didn’t provide it, but never mind that part now), … and then you don’t give it to her, … and then she complains at not getting it, … and you think she’s being unreasonable because she’s never satisfied.  That’s what you just said.  But tell me, how can she be satisfied if you never give her what she asked for?  How can you expect her to be satisfied if you never give her what she asks for?  Am I missing something?

It’s just that the things she wants are crazy.

Hang on, one thing at a time.  Am I missing something?

[sighs]  No, I guess that’s about right.

But in that case you should know perfectly well that she’s going to keep complaining, because the want has never been filled.  Right?  And so if that unfilled want generated a complaint before, and if you leave it unfilled, why exactly do you expect to get a different result next time?

I guess that doesn’t make a lot of sense.

So her complaints are actually pretty predictable, aren’t they?  Or at least more predictable than you were claiming a minute ago?

Yes.

Let me ask something else.  If she says she wants something, and you specifically don’t give it to her, aren’t you being cruel?

No!  Of course not!  If a toddler asks you to buy him Disneyland and you don’t do it, is that cruel?

But if a man is dying of thirst and you could offer him a glass of water but don’t … isn’t that cruel?

I like my example better.

Of course.  But at any rate is it fair to admit there is a continuum, a spectrum, between the one example and the other?

Yes.

And deciding where exactly Wife’s requests land along that spectrum might be a judgement call?

Oh hell, I don’t know.  Yeah, it might.  Maybe.

And so there really is a chance that maybe you are being cruel to her after all?  Deliberately, I mean, because you deliberately choose not to give her the things she wants from you?

But the things she wants are crazy.  And she wants so much.

What do you mean by “crazy”?  Do you mean they are psychotic?  Delusional?

No … just so much more than I can give.

Every single one by itself is more than you can give?

Ummm … maybe not.  The whole lot of them together is more than I can give, or more than I know how to give, because the whole lot of them together would cost more money than I know how to make.  And I would hate doing it because I would resent the hell out of giving her so much.

So what you really mean is that you don’t give her the things she wants from you because you want her to want something else instead, even though you know that the things you value and the things she values are very different.  So she will never want the things you want.  She will never want the things you want her to want.  And then you blame her for complaining when you refuse to give her what she asked for.  And you act surprised.  Have I got that right?

[sighs]  I guess.

I see.  Incidentally, how’s that working for you?

Not so well.

That’s kind of the sense I was getting.  [pauses]  You know, we’ve talked a lot and somehow we never got to the main point.

What main point?

Well we’ve talked a whole lot about Wife’s blaming you for things – including that she is short of cash – but we never said much about her actual purchase itself.  And yet I think you said that you feel just as upset at the purchase as you do at the blame.

Yes, I think that’s true.

Why?  Or let me start by asking “How?”  I mean, “upset” is a pretty vague word.  It can mean almost anything.  How exactly does it make you feel, when Wife buys something expensive that you think is crazy?

I panic.  And I feel totally out of control.

“Out of control”?  Interesting choice of words.  What is it you aren’t controlling?

Well, … ummm, … I guess it makes me feel like I’m not in control of her spending.

Naturally.  But why would you expect to be?

Well back when we lived together and spent out of a common bank account, I would plan to pay our bills on the assumption that we had this much money.  And I’d hate to find out all of a sudden that we had only that much instead.

Did that ever happen?

In the early years of our marriage, it happened a lot.

And you felt …?

Trapped.

Another interesting word.  Why “trapped”?

Well, how was I supposed to fix the problem?

I don’t know.  Why did it have to be you?  It was her spending – why couldn’t you ask her to fix the problem?

I don’t know.  I just didn’t.  I just assumed it was my problem to solve.  Or maybe she assumed it was, and made it my problem.  Or maybe I never challenged her about it.  I screamed about it, but in retrospect that never seemed to help a lot.

Screaming didn’t help?  I’m shocked.  Shocked.  So you felt trapped.  But why now?  You have separate money now, you live in different places.  Why do you care?

You’re right, of course.  And I reminded myself of that at the time.  It helped me calm down.  I think it was just the memory triggered a feeling out of habit, because it had been the other way for so long.  Well, that and ….

And?

And part of me is afraid that somehow we’re not done yet … that somehow she will manage to make it my problem one last time … that somehow she will convince a judge some place to award her a shitload of money to pay alll these crazy bills she is racking up.

I see.  Do you think that’s likely?  I thought the two of you weren’t even going to court, and were going to do everything by mutual agreement.

Sure, that’s the idea.  But how can I know if that will really work out?  Maybe we’ll end up in court after all.

Court is pretty expensive.

It sure is!

Expensive enough that I have to wonder … is the cost of the bed really going to be your biggest worry at that point?

Huh?  Oh, I see.  Oh.  OK, maybe not.

So why are you worried about it?  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t look forward to anybody going to court.  But why are you so worried about this particular purchase?

I guess that doesn’t make much sense.  Maybe it goes back to my saying that I feel that way out of habit.

Is that habit doing you any good now?

What do you mean?

Well it sounds like you are reacting automatically in a way that makes you panic when you feel out of control of events which are indeed genuinely out of your control … and which maybe aren’t all that big as threats in the long run.  So is that feeling doing you any good?

I guess not.

Has the habit outlived its time?

Yes, I think so.

crazy spending, one of a series

OK this is nuts.  And you can’t possibly be interested, but I have to tell somebody.  After complaining for weeks … months … years … about how I have been keeping her on the brink of destitution, Wife went out today and bought a bed.  She offered me the old one, -- you remember there’s an old one, right?  The one that she and I slept on for years and years, the one in the master bedroom in our house where she is still living?  The one that she could still sleep on today for free?  Anyway, she offered me that one, which of course I turned down*, in order to get out of having to pay the trash company for a large-item pickup. 

But WTF?  If she’s so damned broke, how can she afford a bed?  OK, she said it was an overstock and half off.  But still!  Isn’t this the kind of thing where destitute people make do with what they’ve got, no matter how imperfect?  Or at least destitute people with any damned financial sense?

Sorry.  I’m done frothing at the mouth now.  I’ll settle down and go back to normal.  You don’t even need to post a comment to this, unless you want to remind me that, as Samuel Johnson is said to have observed regarding Shakespeare’s Cymbeline, “It is impossible to criticize unresisting imbecility.”

It sure is a good thing that our finances are going to be separated.

* Why “of course”? Let me count the ways. Debbie has said she would refuse to sleep on it. And my apartment is too small for a king-size bed, if I want to use the floor space for anything else as well. And it’s just not that important to me … if that were my only choice, I’d rather sleep on the floor (as I have been doing the past week) and save my money for art. Or food.