My ex and I had unusual luck during our marriage– both good and bad.  The good was awesome: his godfamily gave us full-ride scholarships until we reached our educational goals.  So I was able to finish my Master’s, and he his Associate’s (Can you tell who actually took this seriously?).

And, the bad: he was in a career-ending accident a few years ago.  And despite the fact that his Associate qualified him for other careers, he elected to go back to school full time to pursue his [new] dream job.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t afford this.

I encouraged him to do it nonetheless because I wanted him to be happy.  I said that we were lucky to have gotten through college without taking out a loan, so we could do it now.  I was employed, and we could pay our mortgage, but that would only last until the summer, when his GI Bill funds ran out.  (Ten years of GI Bill and he only had an Associates!  What was he thinking?)  I started asking him to get a job; he tried to get one, didn’t get it, and gave up.  I asked him to look into extending his GI Bill; he agreed that he should, but never did.  I asked him to stick to the budget; he agreed, but didn’t.  He promised he would deal with the housemate and make sure they paid rent on time; this proved to be beyond him.  I came up with various ways to save money, but none of them interested him.  Instead, he started asking his godsister for money.

Now, I’m all for family, and helping, and I think there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you need to be bailed out once or twice in your life.  But for him to live this grand lifestyle, buying video games and a PS3, a new TV, upgrading his computer, eating out lunch with his college friends, and then to call his sister acting like he’s doing everything he can to be thrifty but he just needs a little money… that really got to me.  We went on a vacation, too, just the weekend at a nearby beach town, but I could not enjoy myself.  I was cooking dinner, sticking to my budget, and basically being responsible.  100 percent of my salary was paying bills, and except for some chocolate, I couldn’t spend any money on myself without feeling guilty.  I couldn’t enjoy it, even knowing all the hours of commuting and work I was putting in, knowing I had earned the right to enjoy my life a little on the weekends, but not doing anything more expensive than buying a few tomato plants for the yard (to save money later, of course).  And then there was my husband, studying video games for Christ’s sake, working hard at his math but still having a grand old college time at the age of 29… and somehow I was giving him massages at the end of the day.

You’ll pardon me if I say, fuck that shit.

And then I had to sit at all those stupid church groups and listen to him talk about how great our marriage was, how well we got along, how we never fought.

Well.  I showed him.  (LOL)


One Response to “money”

  1. mum2one Says:

    It’s like we had the same husbands….

    mine made $54,000 a year and yet we were always broke. He always “needed” the new computer, TV, or game and spent our money on junk food on the way to work.

    Amen sister… fuck that shit. 🙂

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