Kittys and Cash

This worry wart rose like a yeasty pile of dough. I wasn’t baking bread unfortunately, just stressing over my significant lack of substance in the form of capital. Money, in other words.

It’s a little mundane, I know, but for some time this dilemma has been gaining on me. It pays me a visit in the middle of the night, checking in on me as I try to sleep and I’m learning this means I need to write about it. Granted, it’s not all that interesting, but I do really treasure my sleep and not the stuff that hauls me out of it.

But isn’t sleep wonderful? Especially on a cold and rainy day. Those fortunate mornings when one wakes up, bundled beneath the covers—investing time in nothing but comfort and relaxation. When the only thing spoiling the moment is a missing sock, lost somewhere down the end of the bed, or a cold booty, suddenly lacking pajama pants. Too much information? I do apologise.

Anyway, the specific concern that is monopolising my sleep is related to a lack of personal income. My husband is currently funding most of my existence (save a few students) for the first time in my life and is very kindly encouraging and leveraging my new writing interest. But I can’t help being concerned that the time I am spending, and the expenses I am expending, may in the end be a bit of a waste. 

What if I never make a buck as a writer? There would be no more sequin purses, that’s for sure and we’d slowly progress from baked beans to kitty food. So you see, there is a considerable amount at stake!

Agatha had money issues at certain times in her life. Things were a little tight when she was about to marry her first husband Alfie and went ‘from bad to worse’. 

“‘It was like a recurrence of my childhood’s experiences, when I had heard mother and father talking together about money difficulties, and had pranced down happily to announce to the household below stairs that we were ruined. ‘Ruin’ had seemed to me then a fine and exciting thing. It did not seem nearly so exciting now; it spelt final disaster for Archie and myself.’”

Oh dear, that does sound difficult. But luckily, Agatha had the considerable asset of being the best mystery writer around and she had a rich cast of characters, waiting in the pipeline.

After some speculation on my new venture into writing, I realised that I have been there before. After all, I am accustomed to practicing, reserving hours of unpaid time every day, not knowing if they would ever contribute to a lot of capital. 

So in the end, I decided that for now, I will continue pillaging my husband's loot in the hope that one day I can credit his contribution in my novel. I could also bill him for my time as housekeeper—though I might need to start doing it first.

Christie, Agatha (2011) Agatha Christie: An autobiography. HarperCollins.