i may know what boundaries are, after all. maybe

I typed out an excessively wordy blogular thing about KiwiSaver and retirement plans this afternoon and then I realised:

(a) you're going to put all that personal financial information on the internet? and
(b) who the fuck cares?

It turns out my boundaries with the internet are finances.  I don't mind boring you all to tears with the state of my eyebrows (slightly furry - never going back to Benefit Brow Bar at Smith + Caugheys again, the face torturers, we're in recovery mode over here) but for whatever reason, I can't bear to bore you with my savings goals and retirement plans and mortgage details. 

EVEN THOUGH I would read the shit out of that if someone else wrote it on their blog.  Because NOSY. 

It did get a little bit feminist ranty when I reflected on income disparity over a lifetime and the total income cost of childrearing, so.  Even worse: political. 

Actually, I think part of my real problem in writing it up was I realised how privileged I am.  Middle class white girl problems, you know?  That's not a gloating shout of 'I'm riiiiiiiiiich', by the way.  It's more that when I worked out my biggest issues, they weren't that big.  I have access to contraception and choice regarding children, I have independent parents who probably won't require my financial assistance in their retirement, and I live in central Auckland, for fuck's sake, so my long-term financial hurdles are really up to fuck all.  Comparison is the thief of joy, I've seen bandied about on those framed quote posters that all of Pinterest appears to have a hard-on for.  I believe that was Edison, or someone like that.  But Comparison is really the Source of All Your Self-Flagellation, too.  OK, OK, you can frame that if you like. 

(I kid!)

(frame it, take a picture, stick it on Pinterest and I'll give you $20, for realsies)