While the magnitude of the current financial crisis remains uncertain, one thing seems clear: The party is over. The era of easy credit and blithe overspending is drawing to a grisly close. And not just for Wall Street BSDs. After years of being goaded toward ever greater heights of consumerism, average Americans are finally feeling pressure to buckle down, spend less, save more, and prepare for lean times ahead.

This is particularly bad news for me because I am a comically inept manager of my personal finances. It's not that I don't try. Over the years I have instituted several budgeting systems, ranging from a simple list of expenses tacked above my desk to an ambitious attempt to track every penny I spent for months. Still, my money disappeared in ways I could neither understan

Not long ago, I received an ominously official-looking correspondence from the Minneapolis/St. Paul branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. The enclosed letter informed me that I had recently been the victim of identity theft, but an agent was there to help me sort my life out.

The letter raised a few questions. First off: Why the Twin Cities, a place I had visited once on a post-collegiate road trip and otherwise had exactly zero connection to? Second: If my identity had really been thieved, why hadn't I noticed? Why no long-distance phone charges to Sierra Leone, purchases of front-load washers in Singapore, or warrants for my arrest in New Zealand?

I ignored the letter and its several follow-ups, feeling rather sorry for the hapless criminal who had taken the trou

There's nothing quite like the Olympics to make me feel guilty about my slothful lifestyle. Most weekends I while away the hours on my couch, watching movies, reading magazines, and musing idly about going to the gym. My routine is pretty much the same when the Olympics are on, only it feels more shameful. Everywhere I look, I see pictures of toned athletes straining and sweating, and anytime I turn on the television, there's an inspirational montage telling me that Olympians aren't so different from you and me. They're just more motivated.

This year, to cut down on Olympics-induced self-pity, I decided to take up swimming. More precisely, I decided that at some point in the future I would take up swimming. First I'd need a good pair of goggles—the item, I've always thought, tha