Rainy Days

Old trusted precepts remind us to save for a rainy day.

Since we were kids we've had daily words of wisdom to help us through our adult life - whether we liked it or not. A bird in hand. Do unto others. And of course that familar saving for that rainy day.

Never was all that good at remembering such platitudes.


What? Now you're telling me!
Fortunately for me, I have Jaded Jeremy to do the reminding. Surely no one can calculate risks and benefits quite as accurately as an actuary - so when he told me he'd suddenly thrown in the towel prematurely in his new workplace, I found myself appalled. Such impulse! Such imprudence! Such impetuousness! What would the strict, doddering actuary commission think!?

After our last meeting, our new gay boy had started taking steps to come out of the closet but had the sudden admission on his part driven him off the edge?

Jeremy : I have resigned from my job.
Paul : Resigned?!
Jeremy : Yeah. Health issues.
Paul : What? Mental health issues?

Not sure if discovering his sexuality at such a late stage in life has shaken his dull, regimented life so much that he's gone wild bananas but he seems so sure of his unprecedented decision that I just nodded my blessings. Come out of the closet. Change jobs. What next? Dye his hair shocking pink and dance in a skimpy thong at the parade?

But what actually came next stunned me even more. Wonder of wonders, the man has a nest egg enough to last half a year - enough to live like an indecently wealthy, olden day maharajah no doubt! Keeping a nest egg seemed almost a matter-of-fact to him - shockingly enough when it sounded to me like some mystical wisdom from saints above.

So much for me thinking that the poor unemployed fella would have to subsist on instant noodles and no electricity for a month.

Jeremy : Well everyone should have an emergency savings deposit.
Paul : Savings?

At work I found myself staring at the phone screen in astonishment. Savings? Was he speaking in ancient Greek now? Evidently this well-meaning but naive actuary assumed that everyone - meaning every man, woman and child on the planet - had oodles of cash specially deposited in hidden accounts stashed in some inaccesible branch of the National Bank of Tibet. Not only that but it had to be the equivalent of 6 times the regular monthly expenses.

Seriously. Do they have all these impressive notions splashed as a friendly - though exceedingly minatory - reminder on the walls of the actuary office? Over at my workplace, we get terrifyingly real banners on venereal disease and the horrors of smoking.

Dropped the phone to do a hasty search through my bank accounts and found it wholly depressingly empty - possibly 1/6 the amount of my monthly expenses. Seems like I've sunk most of my investments into my house and car. As anyone my age ( decrepit me! ) would tell ya, those freaking bank loans ( and those wicked interest schemes calculated by evil actuaries ) can really dry up any meagre savings you have! Any extra would have been spent on miscellaneous items such as books and cds ( not forgetting the twice yearly blowout on travel ) - which no doubt would have easily garnered my frugal Jeremy's disgust.

Feeling quite the financial failure I decided to break out the old piggy bank.

Two bucks in the savings. That has to count as a fiscal umbrella, right?!