13 July 2011

Peeved: Sucking at Feminism Edition

Recently I have had to deal with the wildly annoying process of getting a 529 set up for Bitz.  I have never spent so many man-hours begging people to let me write them huge checks in my life.   Seriously, for all the weeping and wailing about the economy no one can seem to shift their ass and help me invest and, by extension, make money for them.  Needless to say, the whole situation- which should have been easy as pie by the way- has left me a touch irritated.  The icing on the cake is that when I finally get all the paperwork from our financial guy (we will call him DB, bet you can guess what that stands for) it is all done in Chris’ name.   An interesting twist given that I called and asked to set up an account for my daughter with money from my checking account.   In short, I find myself irrationally irritated by this and I think I need some perspective.

Maybe this is no big deal.  In this particular case Chris is home, I can just do the paperwork and tell him to sign the lines (totally kosher way to do finances BTW) and send it back.  Also, I can do pretty much whatever the hell I want anyway thanks to my mighty Power of Attorney.  Really, even if Chris had not been home, a simple addition of a copy of said POA would have made all this go away.  What matters is that the 529 is established, my kid can go to school, the money can leave the account and stop tempting me with the dulcet tones of “new washer and dryer” and  I am done with the process.  

BUT, and there is always a but, isn’t that “oh well, no big deal, I will just take it and get this done” mentality exactly the kind of crap that feminism is supposed to be against?  

The back-story here is that I have always gotten a “vibe” from this guy that we were really worrying about Chris since he is the “owner” of the money.   DB is not concerned with my retirement, after all, it is not like I am retiring from any real work.  DB is not concerned with my input, it is not like it is my money anyway.  Basically, DB is a giant tool who thinks he is starring in Mad Men and not running a financial planning firm in the year 2011.    This knowledge leaves me with a sense of burning injustice that makes me want to storm in there and make his life rough for a few days while he corrects his “oversight.” 

In my head I am reporting him to BBB, NOW and anyone else who will listen to my crazed feminist diatribe.  In reality I just fucking want to be done.  I guess this makes me just another casualty of how the endless influx of tiny little infractions against your very sense of self eventually leaves you too worn down to do anything about it.    I should be fighting the good fight here, but frankly my life of endless childcare, housework and general management of the lives of four people (a job I actually do enjoy and choose to do thanks to the feminists before me who worked so hard to grant me that choice)  has left me a bit too overwhelmed to give a shit. 

The paperwork will get signed tonight, the check will get written and I will drop it off tomorrow.  I will probably just hand it over while shooting dagger eyes at DB, but at least it will be done.   For today, I suck at feminism.  You guys will still love me right? 

2 comments:

Ginger said...

That crap drives me so crazy I can't even stand it. I hate the implications, the innuendo of "the little wife." UGH.

But, like you, I'd probably just shoot daggers at the guy and badmouth him in my car.

Alexis said...

@Ginger Thankfully I only met up with the front desk gal (who is wonderful BTW, she has no idea how much business she probably retains for this guy) and she was very helpful. I played the whole "I hope this is OK since I had to work around DB's mistakes" card. Let that get back to him and fester for a bit. Jerk!

Thank you for validating my belief that is in some way undermining my authority. This may not be my hill to conquer, but it is nice to know it is actually a hill...