buckets

People who work in accounting like to divide assets into buckets which is easy for non-accoutning minds to accept since its rather folksy and nothing like t accounts or general ledgers. I mean, a bucket.  Fundemental, not sexy and practical; appreciated because it's needed. So, January 2009, I'm placing designated parts of my paycheck into the appropiate buckets. Savings, rent, food & essentials, bills, fun.  If it's in the bucket, I can spend it.  If it's not, I can't.  Credit card (really now) only for actual emergencies, which no longer means that pair of boots I will die without, the funky multi-strand leather bracelet I will be naked without, or another pair of perfect fitting jeans, you get the idea, hopefully we all do.  I'm kind of excited about it, which will help.  It's like when long after I was out of school, they started having uniforms of khakis and polo shirts.  While every teenage girl in her right mind should absolutely rebel against this and cut the hem, roll 'em up, splatter some bleach on them, do anything possible to stand out-at the same time, there must be a huge sense of secret blissful relief to be free of competing against the girls whose familes can buy them alot of clothes, the style and trend setters in their tiny worlds.  That's how I feel about not having to keep up with, if not quite the Jones', the Johnsons' then.  People are cutting back, it's cool, its smart and it's challengning.  If you can't buy $350 boots, then how do you look great and hip?  Hair, skin, fit, keep your old clothes in good shape, be happy.  You're making do and the world did not end, you were not shunned for wearing clothing that are years old.

My brother and his wife have separated again and he has reacted the same way he did the first time.  Questioning how this catastrophic event could happen to him, why did it happen to him, how can he save this marriage.  There should be no laughter, no happiness around him.  If he is sad, then everyone around him should be sad.  Sadly, he is not a youngster, he's a middle age professional sulking now at my parents house demanding they mourn and grieve and with and him and listen endlessly to the loop.  There is no life for him without his image of what his marriage should be regardless of the reality that his wife is unhappy and not working to save the marriage. 

I think love can be tossed into buckets.  There is intimate and sexual love, love of sports, love of children, love of the smell and first sip of coffee in the morning, love of seeing people in the street, on the subway, smiling, laughting; love of pets, love of friends, love of sunlight filtered through the trees, whatever you love, put it in a bucket. We value certain types of love over the others, but if we can love everything we can, especially when one of the buckets has dried up, a little healing takes place. That empty one maybe filled up again, it may not.  But there are scores of other buckets lined up and they each have something you love in them.

 
Say Hey (I Love You)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoaTl7IcFs8