![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Feb. 18th, 2009 11:54 am18 months later, we have apparently blown the engine on the Nova -- the Nova I bought for WAY too much money, specifically because it had an engine with under 60,000 miles on it. Those things last forever, don't they?
This hard news came on the heels of the front-end alignment I thought we needed turning into a full-blown front strut and tire replacement. With this latest repair, we will have officially doubled our initial investment in this 20-year old car. Oh, we can bleed the house a little bit more to pay the mechanic, but considering that our main checking account is overdrawn again, staggering under the weight of paying our monthly bills with too little income, it's not a choice I'm happy about.
It's time for someone to get out and start making some serious money, and everyone is looking at me. Not that I object to working -- hell, I'm working right now. I object to the idea of coming home after spending eight hours dealing with other people's crap to a messy house, screaming kids, and my husband asking what's for dinner. I've told him this is exactly my fear; he has never even tried to assure me that it's unfounded.
So here we are, another day older and deeper in debt, and I feel like I'm the only one wondering when we'll tip the scales so far that we'll never be able to scramble ourselves back to even again. I'm wondering what else we can do without, where we've deluded ourselves into thinking we're "comfortably well off" instead of "just getting by." Certainly nobody who dropped by would form the mistaken impression that we're affluent.
I don't even feel a need to be affluent. I just want to be able to pay the bills on time and not worry so much. I'd like to be able to get through the day without a double dose of Ativan before lunch. I'd like someone else to take part of this stress and make it their own so that I don't feel like I'm the only one who notices.
And in a perfect world, I'd love someone to come in with a backhoe. Then we'll see how much of this stuff we really care about. I'm betting it's precious little.
God, is it only Wednesday?
This hard news came on the heels of the front-end alignment I thought we needed turning into a full-blown front strut and tire replacement. With this latest repair, we will have officially doubled our initial investment in this 20-year old car. Oh, we can bleed the house a little bit more to pay the mechanic, but considering that our main checking account is overdrawn again, staggering under the weight of paying our monthly bills with too little income, it's not a choice I'm happy about.
It's time for someone to get out and start making some serious money, and everyone is looking at me. Not that I object to working -- hell, I'm working right now. I object to the idea of coming home after spending eight hours dealing with other people's crap to a messy house, screaming kids, and my husband asking what's for dinner. I've told him this is exactly my fear; he has never even tried to assure me that it's unfounded.
So here we are, another day older and deeper in debt, and I feel like I'm the only one wondering when we'll tip the scales so far that we'll never be able to scramble ourselves back to even again. I'm wondering what else we can do without, where we've deluded ourselves into thinking we're "comfortably well off" instead of "just getting by." Certainly nobody who dropped by would form the mistaken impression that we're affluent.
I don't even feel a need to be affluent. I just want to be able to pay the bills on time and not worry so much. I'd like to be able to get through the day without a double dose of Ativan before lunch. I'd like someone else to take part of this stress and make it their own so that I don't feel like I'm the only one who notices.
And in a perfect world, I'd love someone to come in with a backhoe. Then we'll see how much of this stuff we really care about. I'm betting it's precious little.
God, is it only Wednesday?
