January Kicks Me In The Nuts AgainJanuary 16, 2007
For the third straight year, January has snuck into my finances like a catburglar and unleashed a can of whoopass. In 2005 it was the unexpected leaking gas line to the house that required 25 feet of dug up concrete & was covered neither by the city (“once it’s on your property it’s not our problem”) nor homeowner’s insurance (“if it’s outside your home, it’s not covered”). In 2006, it was the arrival of the little baby cupcake (true, she was born in late, late 2005, but her fiscal impact started being felt in Jan 06). And now, it’s the fences. On either side of my house, the wooden fences that have lasted twenty years or more have both simultaneously collapsed, twin victims of neglect, age & termites, with the heavy winds we had last week providing the killing blow. On the plus side, I did just find $3000 in the street, and I was wracking my brains wondering how I would possibly ever spend it all. Yay, fences!
The best part about annual (yet somehow unexpected) massive financial commitments that arrive in January is that it’s not like you just had the most expensive month of the year immediately prior. Next year when January rolls around, I’m spending the month hiding under the covers like that time I had a nightmare that a ferret had gotten loose in my old apartment. I know there’s nothing as fascinating as reading the blog of some bastard who lives in Brentwood whining about their homeowner’s expenses, so I’ll go on for a few more paragraphs. The truth of the matter is, no matter how much I’ve ever made, life has found a way to use that money up. I feel like if I had just known that when I first started out working for a living, I would have aimed much, much lower. Being broke when you hardly make any money is way easier; plus, people expect it.
Instead, I make a fortune & when I show up at my secret club for other white males who make a bunch of money (if you’re not aware of this club, you’re not wealthy/male/white enough), the rest of my oppressing brethren are driving nicer cars while I’m in some lame ass Prius. I have to make up some excuse that it’s for the environment or some crap, but I can see the pitying looks on their faces. Oh January, why must you keep me driving a Prius when I’m genetically pre-disposed to a Lexus?