Inga’s Financial Column

I have house lust. It’s no secret. I browse the realty websites daily, check interest rates, take photos of fences and gardens, and peer surreptitiously through open blinds if I’m wandering past a pretty house in the evening. I get as excited about three bedroom brick veneers with ducted heating as I did watching Vin Diesel and The Rock beat the shit out of each other*. I can’t wait to buy my own little piece of Australia and pay it off for the next 30 years of my life, along with an alarming interest component.

The first thing I’ve had to do is figure out whether I can actually afford mortgage repayments. On paper, apparently I can. Generally I’m good with money, but for the last couple of years I’ve been splashing it around like I’m Charlie Sheen (sports model Fiesta, anyone?), so I’ve set myself a task. For the next couple of months I’m going to live like I’m paying a $520 per week mortgage. I’ve been writing down every cent I spend in a spreadsheet (I’m an absolute whore for spreadsheets), and the results are disturbing:


Yes, a full 32% of my disposable income is spent on random crap and alcohol. ‘Random crap’ includes things like candles, wooden chickens and The Most Awesome Push-up Bra Ever. ‘Booze related activity’ includes taxi fares and club entry charges.

To summarise, I spend more money partying than I do on groceries and I spend more on wooden chickens than I do on electricity, gas, water, telephone, and internet combined.

It’s possible some prioritisation may be in order.

Or I could knock off my parents.     

*Fast Five, seen it twice so far. Will probably go again.


11 thoughts on “Inga’s Financial Column

  1. Oh my, that is alarming… if you cut out the random crap (especially now that you own the world’s best push-up bra), there should still be plenty for drinking and a mortgage, no?

    • That’s what I figured. And maaaaybe I could go out only once or twice a month, instead of every week – then I could afford another awesome bra.

  2. $520 a WEEK??? (Hopefully you meant month?)

    Plan A: Cut the shit and buy a house

    Plan B: Buy a big enough house so certain relatives can move in and share expenses.

    Plan C: Keep things as they are. At that rate of partying you’re not gonna live the 30 years anyway …

    • Nope, $520 a week is what I’d be paying on a $300,000 home. That’s a cheap house round Melbourne.

      I’d make you my financial advisor, but Plan B clearly shows you’re off your rocker.

      • Well, it’s not like “he” would be all that interested in Plan B anyway. Too many civilized people around.

        And … all of this makes me glad I am not buying a house now and just paid mine off. Do not see how people can afford them.

      • A lot of people are struggling to buy their first home these days – I’ve read several articles about my generation basically giving up on the idea of ever owning property. Considering most of them spend an obscene amount of money on alcohol and candles, I’m not surprised.

        And ‘civilized people’ are probably not half so offputting as ‘uncivilized offspring’.

  3. Just rob a bank.

    I also photograph fences and homes – it must be an illness. Although you can tell by my blog griping that I’m also dying to get a house. The thing that worries me is what financial advisors say – forget the mortgage, it’s the home repairs that will kill you. We have an old house and we recently had to get a new roof, furnace fixed and maybe replaced soon, plus the foundation is shot to hell.

    But with your monetary vigillance I have confidence you’ll get there and soon – just keep it up. I hope I get there soon although no one’s going to make me stop buying my favorite undergarments. 🙂

    • Ahh, fences…I’m partial to a good solid bluestone wall, myself. And anything with ivy growing all over it. I do love old houses but as you say, the maintenance is hell. I grew up watching GOF fix this, paint that, rebuild this, and I know I’d certainly not be capable of all that labour. I guess that’s what sexy tradesmen with big muscles are for 😉

      We’ll both get there Emmy, undergarments or not!!

  4. At least your spreadsheet doesn’t make you look boring. In fact it makes you look like an extra from Sex and the City. I wouldn’t dare do one for my spending because a) I don’t want to know that I need to buy less nail varnish, assorted shite and booze and b) I’d be devastated if the results revealed that I am now in fact as boring as they come.

    • It’s quite an eye-opening exercise, you might find you need to buy MORE assorted shite and nail varnish. And if ‘boring’ means having a home, husband and career, then sign me up for boring any day (ok, I’m still ambivalent about the husband part).

      Sadly I don’t spend anywhere near enough on dates, shoes and contraceptive devices to qualify for Sex and the City. 😦

  5. Pingback: Give me land, lots of land! « Step Into The Light

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