Fetishes

      

Funny how they come and go.

So, I’ll back up before I begin.

The Mister ruled over our checking account for years.  The monthly balancing act was never pretty.  According to him, I had a laissez-faire approach to specific dollar amounts and detailed reporting.

In an attempt to save our marriage, I wrested the checkbook from him and soon developed my own fetish about bank statements.  Specifically, their bottom line versus mine.  They had to balance.  To the penny.  Hours could be spent making the disparate amounts jive.  The further apart they were, the more intense it got.  

But now?  Well, the fetish has seriously waned.  I lost interest (no pun intended) in the whole thing a few months ago.  Now, I can’t bear to look at a bank statement.  “Balance” is a word of the past. The checking account is the chaos that it appears to be.

My dear Aunt Mary, from whom many good memories flow, had a banking system that worked for her.  She had two accounts.  She paid bills from one until it was a true mess, switched over to the second while the first straightened itself out, went back to the first so the second one, now a mess, could fix itself.  And on it went.   She left this life without an adding machine, calculator, or any other means of balancing her bank statements.  And she was one of the happiest people I ever knew.

She was a great role model and I’ve made a decision to follow in her foot steps. I’m feeling so much happier already and The Mister can have the checkbook back anytime he wants it.  Sooner would probably be better than later. 

Image thanks to GOBankingRates.com