Financial Storm Clouds

Took a drive past our little harbour yesterday and caught these storm clouds gathering.

They're pretty apt, as there is definitely a Katrina brewing on my financial situation. I've fallen into the easy-credit trap. For 5 years now I've just been going more and more into debt, digging a horrendous hole for myself.

It was one thing when it was just Mrs M and I. In the back of my mind I always thought that when the shit hits the fan we could just sell up, cash in on the property boom, and move into a tiny studio apartment in the city. Mrs M, I am pretty certain, didn't share this vision, but the fact is that it was always a worst case scenario possibility.

The arrival of Miss L has changed all that. Responsible fathers need to ensure that there's always healthy food on the table, a secure environment, school fees, etc. etc.

Even without Miss L, I've known for years that our debt has to one day reach a limit, and when that day arrives, we're gonna be in deep Poo. The scary thing is that no matter how much closer the day arrives, I push the thought into the deep recesses of my mind, and keep it locked up there so as not to intrude on my little "utopia". I just haven't been facing up to it.

I'm not even sure if it's not already too late. There is a chance that if I started putting a solid 7 hours a day into my business, and caught a bit of luck, I could stave off the impending doom. But it's not happening. Every time I hit a "Pretty Shitty" or "Got-a-Gun" day, my business is the first casualty. This year so far I reckon I've averaged about 3 hours solid work per day. Pathetic.
I live in hope that when we get really close to the implosion (like when lawyers letters of demand are starting to arrive) BPG will get jolted out of his cucoon. I've done it before. My whole academic history was like that. In school you got 2 kinds of learners - the Long Distance Runner and the Pole Vaulter. The Long Distance Runner paced themselves all year putting in a few miles every day. Come exam time, they hardly had to adjust their pace - just keep on running.

The Pole Vaulter, on the other foot, would sit on his backside, wait and wait, until there was zero slack left in the system, and at the eleventeenth hour put one almighty push in. Me, I was the Pole Vaulter.

But this isn't school, and this isn't exams. This is bread on the table, blood pumping through the veins. The banks don't give a shit whether I'm BiSexual, BiValent or BiPolar. Outstanding loans are outstanding loans. This is FCKN REAL!

So it's time for BPG to get real too. Gotta focus on this man, Gotta focus.


Later...
OK so I've been focusing on the reality of my screwed up financial situation all day. And now I'm as depressed as hell. So is Mrs M.

You just can't fckn win.