When living with a spreadsheeter, a term lovingly yet liberally applied to my amazing husband, one must fine-tune the art of financial decision-making. We have a budget. The budget is on a spreadsheet in the computer, and this magical spreadsheet holds all the knowledge in the universe regarding what we should and should NOT spend because we have previously agreed upon these parameters.
Jason: You weren’t going to use the debit card, remember?
Me: Right, I remember. (Nodding enthusiastically.)
Jason: You were going to get cash.
Me: I did get cash, but then I ran out.
Jason: Well, that means you went OVER budget. (I’m starting to become concerned by the way he’s slamming his head into the countertop. I feel he’s trying to communicate a certain level of frustration with me, but I’m not sure.)
Me: Nope, it just means I didn’t get enough cash the first time.
Jason: But didn’t we agree that you were going to use a certain amount this week so that you would have enough next week? (Why is he throwing himself in front of moving vehicles? It seems a little dangerous…)
Me: Yes, but we all wanted Chipotle for dinner, and that would have used up all of my cash. So I used the card. Should I have just gotten more cash?
Jason: No! You were supposed to budget your money and wait until next week for Chipotle if you ran out of money. (Now crying tears of coffee. He drinks WAY too much coffee.)
Me: But we might not want Chipotle next week. Ok, we probably WILL, but we also wanted Chipotle this week. I guess I could have written a check…but I don’t think they EVEN take checks at Chipotle.
Jason: For the love of FUCK! Don’t write any checks. By the way, have you written any checks?
Me: A few. But only because you took my cash away. Do you want the stubs?
Jason: (No answer. Throws self from nearest cliff.)
And that’s about how our financial planning goes. Hopefully Jason is hiding money in coffee cans buried in the back yard, you know, to protect me from myself and to help us through our retirement.