Cents and Sensibility

It is officially the year 2002.

At least, that's the year I've returned to based on the scale. I have erased the effects of the last 8 years and I'm feeling like 1998 is just around the corner!

The idea of erasing years and getting my "sexy" back feels like a form of ammortization. You know, getting back to square one by putting in installments of sweat, tears and fast food denial.

Of course, these days, money and budgeting have become my life. I budget my calories (eaten and burned). I budget the time I spend working. I budget the time I spend writing. I budget the time I spend with each child, with dog, and with my husband (often, sadly, in that order). And of course, I budget the cash flow.

It's no wonder that I have come to see myself as the CEO of Team Slagle and a commodity in and of myself.

Truth be told, I've always been a fairly logic driven person who sees the world through binary lenses like the ones Neo sports in The Matrix trilogy, but here lately, I've been in a slightly new arena: that of perceived human worth.

This brings me to my thought of the day.

Recently, I spoke with two friends -- one female and one male -- on the topic of perceived self worth. My male friend was sick and tired of being undervalued by women who had the unmitigated temerity to leave him feeling unappreciated. I must admit, at the time the quandary left me giggling. I mean, seriously? Feel self-important much?

Then later, I spoke with my female friend who is considering lowering her standards and "casting a wider net" because the old biological clock is ticking and she doesn't want to end up alone. For the record, she's freaking fantabulous and yet this woman sounded as despondent as the man sounded effronted; I couldn't help wondering what was really going on here.

Sometimes it takes a flip of the coin to see both sides. When my male friend was waxing on and on (and on) about how he was underappreciated, I was mostly just amused. When my female friend admitted to lowering her standards, I was mostly appalled.

I'm a little ashamed to admit that the motivation for my reaction in both cases was that I was appraising the fair market value of each as though they were properties for sale on one of those shows on HGTV. You know the ones where they flip the houses and then put it on the market?

Sometimes they price their property just right and make a quick sale and sometimes they take a look around and decide to ask for waaaaaaaaaaaaay more than they should. In these instances I yell and gesture at the television beside my amused husband questioning their sanity and their ability to walk with cajones so grande.

When I'm watching the shows, I think to myself (and shout out loud) that value is determined by the market -- not your imagination or personal perception. It's quantifiable and objective, not subjective.

But then it happens. The ringer. The person who goes balls to the wall with a 50K overshot, gets an offer and makes the sale.

You see, there's a little something called the X Factor. That little something called swagger that separates the Trumps from the rest of us. Those with a go big or go home mentality, Castanza-ing their way through life regardless of receeding hairlines, paunch-bellies and underwhelming job prospects.

When they make it -- and they do make it -- we are mystified and (secretly) encouraged to dream and to soar, to hell with logic and history.

Then there are the rest of the populus, the sensible few who live within the boundaries of precedence. Who do what they think makes sense and get what others would tell them they deserve.

I can't quite say who it is I'd rather be.

In my case, I was delusional enough to dream way off the charts and then determined that I'd get what I wanted if that meant dragging the world behind me like road kill on my personal path. My biggest strength (and flaw) is my decisiveness and my willingness to apply it without taking any prisoners. God love my husband for standing by me, right in the eye of Hurricane Kimberlyn.

Some have called me a steam roller, psycho, control freak (these are actual quotes). I prefer to go with driven. Either way, when it comes to perceived self worth, there is at least one part rational thinker and two parts fool inside of me.

In the end, I wouldn't trade what I have now for a fair amount of money (start throwing billions my way and I might have to make some tough decisions), but I wonder about the other two groups.

I suppose in the end, spending month after month on the market feels the same no matter why your still listed.