I'm ready to leave work, like, forever. But only if someone will declare me independently wealthy so that I can enter into pursuits without worrying about, you know...What's it called? Oh. Yeah. MONEY. And like, PAYING FOR STUFF and shit. I know. I keep saying I'm going to fly right, but dammit people! I HAVE WANTS. Not to mention a nice chunk of credit card debt. And bills. You all remember those, right? They're irritating but basically mean you have a roof over your head and food to eat.
That's what I have until payday, which is next fucking Tuesday. I'm an idiot, so the only reason I even have that is because I transferred cash from my limited savings account. If it weren't for my luxurious 401k I'd have about $300 total dollars to my name anywhere ever.
My boy is similarly spendy in his ways. Though I must say, for someone who only spends his money on food, video games and carabiners, the amount he manages to rid himself of is astounding. Anyway, together right now we are worth about six hundred dollars. Wait. That's only if we sell ALL OUR EARTHLY POSSESSIONS. Including ourselves.
We had a discussion last night. He's getting a severance check for being laid off from his dream job (poor boy) almost three weeks ago. I wanted to make sure he'd try to hold onto to it. Our biggest expenditure is eating out, something I rarely did before dating him. I tried convincing him that going back to his idea of only eating out a couple times a week and at mainly cheap places was for the best. He seemed kind of offended. Maybe even pissy that I would suggest he wasn't good at taking care of money. Even though he admitted he's not so great in that area, you know how it is. You never want to hear it from someone because then it feels like criticism. But we agreed on three meals out a week, with cooking and leftovers filling everything else.
I just don't want to end up still paying for an apartment at 40 because I couldn't get my shit together enough to afford a house.