Part II of the Continuing Manifesto Series (Perhaps soon to be known as ‘gee, Anne, weren’t you funny once?’ week): Money
We lost a lot of money. Not so much that we are downsizing or wondering how to pay off the credit cards or thinking about selling kidneys or anything. But enough that my husband has been walking around in a bit of a daze the past six weeks, saying in a kind of giggling disbelief: I guess I’ll be working a lot longer than I thought I would be.
Every time it gets brought up, he cringes. Every time there is a conversation or thought that could possibly lead up to money, he berates himself about the loss. When he reads this post, I expect he will hunch his shoulders and grit his teeth and perhaps howl at the moon like a wounded and/or caged animal later this evening.
I don’t miss the money. I miss my husband.
PS- he’s having a hard time believing I really am not mad at him. His disbelief is starting to make me a little mad at him for a lot of reasons that are difficult to describe and feel private, but two of the big ones boil down to this:
1. He means the world to me and it really pisses me off that he seems bent on believing that what I see in him is nothing more than a checkbook. The insult added to this injury is that if insists on believing I am secretly the gold-digger type, at least he could have faith that I would be a smart gold-digger, who would choose a guy who might get knocked down but who had the ability to pick himself back up and shake the money tree again. His underlying belief that I am a failed, surly, disappointed, poorly skilled ‘digger is really infuriating.
2. His inability to wear a pair of socks more than ten minutes without taking them off and leaving them wherever he is does tend to piss me off. Times in which I am actually mad? It is hard to get him to shake in fear over the wrath of my domestic ire. I want to make an instructional. Zounds SOCKS! EVERYWHERE! = My pissy face. Learn it. Know it. Sketch it on an index card, keep it in your pocket, reference it often. Now see if there is any similarity between that face and the one I am making now. No? Good.
I love you, you awesome man.*
*and you gotta know I love you know because you know how hard it is for me to imbed stuff.
27 Responses to “Tuesday”
My husband gets extremely mopey when the stock market plunges. As if it won’t turn around. As if it’ll stay that low forever!
“His underlying belief that I am a failed, surly, disappointed, poorly skilled ‘digger is really infuriating.”
weren’t you funny once?
Yeah, that hasn’t changed. You’re hilarious! It’s the whole ‘men should provide’ instinct, that does that to guys, isn’t it? That’s why they get pissy when work isn’t going so well. Sorry you lost some money, but you don’t sound all that concerned really. It’s just money, right?
Truthfully, honestly, I am moving to wherever it is you are so we can be crazy old women rocking on porches together, bumpin’ out to Kanye and shit, yo.
I second what Karen Sugarpants said- you haven’t lost your hilarious this week.
And wow- the gap between what he thinks is important to you and what is actually important to you is certainly reason to be pissed off, and not at those things he expects would piss you off. But he is worried about pissing you off, period and that is a good sign: he cares. Awww.
honey, anyone who would post that video still gots her funny awwwn.
Having had one marriage fall apart because of bone headed dumbass stubborn male pride, I can, with authority, assure you that is not about you. Not one bit of it. It is about him. His view of the world and the microcosm of that world that includes you but you are just a player on that stage. Tragically, your opinion should matter more, but it doesn’t. Not when male ego and pride are involved. He is probably a wonderful man, but he is biologically a boy. And they are just wired funny. Don’t even begin to put any of his attitude on yourself because it just isn’t about you. Assume he will crawl out of his cave/funk and be the dude you love and adore and will move on from this issue and maybe he will even pick up his socks every so often. If not, collect them and stuff them in his pillow.
my toddler has the same problem with socks. ..and i swear, i wasn’t trying to compare your husband to a 2-year-old. hahaha
Now I’ll be singing that song all day. AWESOME.
Also? Why is it that men associate money with self worth? What IS that? Is it the traditional breadwinner role? V. frustrating.
AHHHHGHK The Money Troubles. Dadguy has just this year realized that he has hit the ceiling in the company he’s with. Is ripping his hair out. Is not a happy Dadguy. And somehow YOU manage to be funny about y’all’s troubles, all I seem to be able to do it bitch about it.
Does it add anything to the discussion, I wonder, if I confess I’ve never known how to pronounce Kanye?
No?
Well.
Huh.
Men and money…sigh
PS: You have money to loose? The only chance i stand of losing money is leaving my wallet on the hood of my car. Maybe THAT will make him feel better.
Losing a lot of money is stressful, especially when you have a family to provide for. Cut him some slack; be a little more understanding. It’ll pass and he’ll get over it.
Huh. And I always thought you were a successful gold-digger. Silly Me. At least I know the truth now and can judge you properly.
Tell Husband to look in his dirty pants pockets. That’s where I always lose my money.
And? Did I tell you I love me some truth? I might have mentioned it once before. Still true.
It is supah stressful for a caveman to lose his, um, what is the caveman parallel to modern-day-man money? His carcass? Just doesn’t sound right, but you know what I mean.
I get it, I get it, I so TOTALLY get it. Mine and I have this same kind of thing every once in a while, not about the loss of money but about the topic of money. It is frustrating.
p.s. you? still funny.
OH, man, money stuff SUCKS.
Money is the root of all evil, at least in marriage. If my husband and I were to get divorced (oh please God, no!), I guarantee you that money would be a part of the reason. Not lack of, not too much, just effing money.
Too bad it has to be that way with most couples.
And hey, I am new here. I thought your blog was secret. So, your husband DOES know about it, then?
I can feel that coming from so many families, including our own. All the wallet tightening is turning everyone into a tightass, or tightwad or whatever. Anyway, you’re not alone, that’s for sure.
Socks. Imma start shoving male socks (don’t care whose are whose) in a box, dirty OR clean, and let them deal with it. Sock City USA here.
Well, one good thing about not having enough money to be in the stock market is not losing it. But shit has been dumped on us. We decided to take our rebate to New Orleans and have the first vacation in 15 years. Then the week before we leave our vehicle needs $1600.00 work to pass our state inspection. As that is cheaper than replacing the car… on the credit card it goes. We had a wonderful time at the Jazz Festival and our costs were less than expected…sigh of relief. Then we get home and some asshole has been in our house and took what he could carry which amounted to about $1000.00 which is the deductable on our insurance. Such is life.
BTDT and left behind the t-shirt.
And these days? I expect you guys are on a pretty crowded boat.
GL getting him snapped out if it—this post should do the trick, or go a long ways towards it.
UUUGH socks!!!! SOCKS!!! I think we are married to the same man. Funny, I never see you in the halls?
Sorry about the money. It happens. I don’t mean that in a belittling way. Just, it happens.
Now go gold dig your way out of that sock hole.
Socks suck…I have resorted to buying 70 pairs of the same ones and they all go in one drawer, help yourself BOYS, and if it is empty…Well TFB (toofuckingbad)
as far as hubby…said it before, will say it again:
HAVE A PENIS, HAVE NO BRAINS!
(gets me thru in a house demoniated by males)
you are most definitely STILL FUNNY!
“His underlying belief that I am a failed, surly, disappointed, poorly skilled ‘digger is really infuriating.”
You crack me the heck up. Even focused on tragedy, family complications, and “telling all” without really telling it, you are one funny lady.
Dear Anne’s husband:
Pick up your socks. You are a lucky man to have such a lovely wife. Frankly, I think I’d marry her.
Sincerely,
Stimey
cute!
Sadly, I AM at the selling kidneys stage . . . or at least selling eggs. I can only imagine the scary-but-funny-from-a-safe-distance-ness that is being on fertility drugs for a month!