On Budgeting

One of the things I always enjoyed about reading classic non-fiction literature is the chapter headings. Rather than trying to find something funny to say, such as "Flaming Toasters," a chapter in a Dave Barry book I read about toaster pastries getting jammed into a toaster, lighting on fire, and burning a house down (the name brand toaster pastries do indeed burn at heights of a foot or more, more than enough to light your cupboards above the toaster on fire, which Dave Barry apparently tested himself, in the true spirit of scientific discovery), the chapter heading would have read something like, "On Dumb Things That Can Burn Down Your House," or perhaps just, "On Stupidity."

Today, I wrote up my first budget in awhile. Not having money makes budgeting rather a waste of time. There isn't anything coming in at all, so how is one to organize one's expenditures? Well, now there is money coming in, although deplorably little in view of my spending habits to date. I have a lot of traveling expenses to pay back to my cards. Yes, plural. Although, I did lose one of my cards - I know it wasn't stolen because nothing's been charged, but I was actually dumb enough to simply lose it. Anyway, the budget - my apartment in Seattle will eat up a significant chunk of my monthly income, approximately 35% of my monthly income after taxes. I feel that that is an acceptable percentage, if not ideal. Until April, I'm still in hardship deferral on my giant student loans, but as soon as I start paying them back, they will eat up approximately 23% of my monthly salary. So, until April, I budgeted 23% of my income for "me" stuff - I'm getting my brother a camera, I'm getting myself a new lens, and I'm buying some sort of loveseat/couch and some art prints for my new apartment.

I have found that the primary problem with a budget is not not having one - I've never really had a budget I could stick to - the problem is when your income is spotty. When it's nonexistent, you realize that, and plan accordingly. When it's spotty, for whatever reason, then you get into the "I know I have $25 remaining, so I can safely buy $20 worth of groceries" mindset. Then you realize that the National Park Service has finally deposited the $5 parking check you wrote four months before, and you actually have $19 in your account, and your $20 worth of groceries just pushed it over the edge into "fee-land." "Fee-land" is a place where the bank, correctly deducing that you have no money, has decided to charge you for the privilege of pointing out that you have no money. Then, once they charge you to the point that you not only have no money, but you won't for quite a while, they charge you again for having the temerity to have no money in your account. It's a happy place, and it ought to be entirely illegal. I would vote for someone who promised to adjust banking laws regarding overdraft charges. It should be a percentage of what you overdrafted (what Bank Austria did on my account in Vienna), or a flat fee, whatever is LESS.

But I digress. Now that I have a steady income, and I have bothered to work out some sort of budget, I'm looking forward to not receiving any more of those nasty little postcards in the mail that informed me - and not particularly politely, either - that I had, once again, entered "fee-land."