Yesterday I once again spent the afternoon with the high school students in my office’s young leaders program, and this time I helped lead a session on the budget.

Yes, the budget. Probably the topic they were most excited about (not). I was not sure how interested they would be in learning about local government revenue streams, disbursements, and budgetary processes. Let?s face it, who really is (except for the nerdy folks like me in my office).

But, surprisingly, they got really into it. They were shocked to learn the budget is larger than five other states. They could not believe that only about 20 percent of families in the area had children in school, yet the school system receives more than half of the disbursements. They wanted to know why this area gives up so much money to the state and only receives a small amount in return, unlike other areas. Some were really mad about that, insisting that that just did not seem fair.

They also soon learned that fair was not really part of the budgetary lexicon. I had them complete an exercise where they had to fill a $450 million budget deficit through increasing the tax rate, adjusting the amount of money transferred to the schools, and/or eliminate key program areas. To make matters more compelling, some students read roles assigned to them that lobbied for the programs put on the chopping block.

And they whipped out their TI-89s and got to work, trying to fit the dollars together like a puzzle to come up with a solution. After a few minutes of work, one boy looked up at me, screwed up his face, and said “how do you expect me to do this? This is hard. How am I supposed to satisfy what people want and fill the deficit?”

Ah, learning.

So they puzzled and they pondered, and they kept asking me questions as if I had the “right” answer. I tried to communicate that there was no particular “right” answer, they just had to decide what they thought was best.

In the end, after much frustration, each group presented their decisions. Some decided that the need to fund programs and the schools was so great that they increased the tax rate some $0.20 on every $100 of assessed value – yikes! Others decided that some of the programs were just not necessary and used those cuts to fill the deficit. And others did a combination of cuts and tax increases, trying to find some middle ground, I suppose to be fair.

I have to say I was impressed. I know some adults that could not have completed that exercise.

They all did a great job, but I am not sure if any one of them wants to work in a budget office after than exercise.

Dan called me a Closet Tyrant.

He claims in our two years of living together/sharing a closet, my side slowly but surely crept over to his side, and he is finding this unacceptable. Hence, I am the Closet Tyrant.

This is confusing to me. I am a girl, and I am a girl who happens to love clothes. Therefore, yes, I tend to accumulate clothes over time. Lots of clothes. Duh! And as far as a being referred to as a tyrant, I refer the title of Closet Diva. He knows this.

Let’s review: Dan works from home. Dan’s outfits (By the way, he claims men do not have “outfits,” just “clothes.” He gets rather insulted whenever I use the term “outfit” to refer to this clothing. And he says I am the weird one?) consist of what I like to refer to as the “uniform,” which is comprised of a selection of his Khakis of the Rainbow and various bold and striped polo shirts. And that is basically all he wears. Ever. The man cannot stand long sleeves (although he does own several for when he travels and therefore he sees people in the flesh versus talking to them on a conference call in his Ralph Lauren PJs from the comfort of our home). And he refuses to wear jeans (Remember this gem of an incident when my Grandma Rosemary tried to buy him flannel-lined jeans? He he he…). He loves shorts, and he will wear them between the months of March and November. In college, I recall a time or two when he wore shorts and it was snowing. Yes. Snowing.

I do not work from home, so I need to come up with five unique outfits a week. And I try to keep tops in a three-week rotation at least. And, except for when the chiller is broken, it is cold in my office, so I need to wear several layers lest I freeze. Therefore, one can see how I need an assembly of shirts and cardigans and sweaters and buttons down shirts and blazers at my disposal.

So, there you have it. I am not sure why he is arguing for closet equality when clearly we need to talk in terms of closet proportionality.

Yet, my sweetie and I thought we should post a picture of the closet showing the size discrepancies and ask for feedback on fairness of the closet division. So, without further ado, I give you THE CLOSET:

Thoughts? Looks pretty proportional to me!

Yesterday at a work meeting, a colleague asked me about my latest baking escapades. He remembered my tragic tale of woe about my Christmas cake that I had such high hopes for and ended up looking like a deformed leaning Tower of Pisa. So, I told him about my favorite Barefoot Contessa Outrageous Brownie recipe, and I promised to make them and treat us all to delicious brownies at our next meeting.

He asked me if my cooking skills were also as good as my baking skills. If so, he claimed I had one lucky husband.

After I was done snorting with laughter, I assured him that I had absolutely no cooking skills whatsoever, and my husband makes all of our meals. I told him we are all about self-preservation in our house, and we simply would not eat if Dan did not cook.

He was taken aback, and apparently our other colleague was as well because he said ok, if Dan cooks, and I bake, who pays the bills?

I told him Dan does.

And, who services the cars?

Umm…Dan.

And fixes stuff?

That would be Dan.

So, they said, “Sarah, what is it that you do?”

I had to think about that one. But, then I remembered that I faithfully do the laundry once a week. (Mostly because poor Dan would put things like jeans and cashmere in the dryer. He means well.)

So of course I went home and relayed this story to Dan, who laughed and asked if I told them that I allowed him to live with me and therefore reap the priceless benefits of being in my presence? No, no I had not. But I am glad he thinks that because I think he is pretty priceless, too.