If every person had a literal budget, dedicated not to money, but to personal resources like energy and time-a schedule of sorts for everything actually important in life, not class periods, or dentist appointments, or anything of that sort-I believe that we would try to maximise on career, and minimise on love. We are, after all, in the heights of capitalism, and women, indeed, should seize the opportunity unless they are asking to lose it (they would then have to resort back to the fifties' housewifey role). Living light, the minimalist lifestyle; no cutting down on electricity or entertainment fees-unless you would like to further degrade affection to such a status-we make our savings by sparing less involvement with others.
"That's not true!" You say, "I have a select group of soul-picked friends, a nine-to-five job staring into the depths of a twenty-four inch blue-lit hell, I go out with my middle-aged coworkers bi-weekly for brunch, have successfully completed my first half-marathon, and meal prep every Sunday at three in the afternoon after my post-lunch self-care nap." You pause to admire your life ethic. "I finally have my shit together!"
You do, indeed, have your shit together. The world says so by validating your choices with Runners World and avocado toast.
You reevaluate your time-effort budget-health is high despite nearing the late twenties, the job is morbidly comfortable, friends pop in only on occasion to remind you of the rush in moral support when seeing members of the pack-time and motivation are plentiful in the life bank. Maybe it's time you fit in a girlfriend, don't you think? A nice little extra, that works rather nicely in between the weekend meal-prep and the lads. If you're lucky and prove yourself to be a stable partner-which you will-you might even settle down again and start a family. It'll be fulfilling: like work, like running, like friends.
Congrats, you win at life, you who sees life in charts and schedules. You're happy. Your brain's chemical levels are optimally balanced and kept pumping thanks to the sports, the Saturday sex, the hugs, the impeccable sleep hygiene.
Did you know that some of the stars we see in the sky aren't actually there? That doesn't really matter, because you can still see them. You take what you need. You excel at surviving-living. But maybe, just maybe, the sky isn't actually there for you anymore. Thinking further than the budget is a joke you tell yourself sometimes. It gives you a sort of frisson that comes from intellectual stimulation-deserving of a pat on the back. What ifs are frivolous, and your woman friend thinks you're the most romantic guy she's met whenever you make one.
It's an ideal, you. It's what everyone wants. Although, sometimes currency rings out of tune. It doesn't fit right with hopes and dreams. Life lived saving for the budget is stilted and ugly. It is meaningless and cruel. It is comforting and tempting. Everyone must decide whether to stick to the budget, or not.
