Monday, 24 June 2013

Time to be a grown up

I went to see a Financial Advisor today, primarily to set up a pension.  Yes.  You heard me.  A pension.

Well - I am 42.  Some might say I'm 20 years late.  Well, (I might say to them), let me tell you this; I've already got a bit of a pension when I was a real human being before having children.  And now I'm properly back at work - time to pretend to be an adult again.

Three things did I learn from the Oily but rather Lovely Financial Man.  1. I will probably not draw my state pension until I'm 68.  That means I'm not even half way through my working life.  *shudder* 2. His four children go to private school thereby proving that he takes his own advice - and probably knows what he's talking about, and 3. Really, all things considered, I'm not all that badly off.

So with all this new found knowledge, I mailed my ex with yet another financial proposal.  At least this one had the foundation of advice from someone a gazillion times wiser on money matters than me, and - as it turns out - my solicitor.  If he rejects this, I need to take him to court.

I do not want to go to court.  I might as well take all my savings and set fire to them.

So I sit here, with my fingers, legs and eyebrows crossed, hoping that he will see sense, give in, admit defeat.  The unexpected can happen - the lovely Raffa Nadal will tell you that.

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