Coasting through life

It’s interesting when you get a glimpse of how other people subconsciously see you. My boss gave me coasters for Christmas: very pretty blue ones, with 50s pin-up girls on them. In the past year or so, I’ve received three sets of coasters. When I told Steve last night that Jean sent me coasters, he got all cross. Turns out he got me some this year, too. I can read many things into this coaster-buying: that I am the kind of person who does not tolerate rings on her 1960s coffee table or kidney-shaped dressing table, that I am a hip, urban, swingin’ chick who drinks a lot and entertains every night. The negative spin on these is that a) I am anal and b) I am a lush.

But who the hell cares, cuz I just got promoted! Aw yeah. A nice pay rise, too, which I will celebrate by taking my boy for baby back ribs and beer, and buying a new pair of shoes. (Probably black cons – it’s not that big a rise.) My friend Jon has a theory about pay rises, which is that it takes exactly two months to adjust your standard of living to your new income before you start to feel poor again. For the first two months you feel like Rockerfeller: there you are in the pub, buying your third round of the night. A glimpse of you through the window of Poste Mistress, paying for a pair of designer shoes you can’t afford and will wear twice. Then your ‘needs’ grow to meet your increased salary, and there’s no way you can survive on the money…