Some Weeks Should Have Warning Labels

Computer, commute, tire--hey, I'm off the C's! Well it deals with the car so maybe I haven't left the C's at all. let's add crying to the list. I spent a good chunk of yesterday's free time in a depressed funk because of what I have to pay out of the next check. Then I spent this morning working on a debt consolidation list on loan paperwork--namely confirming that the totals nearly equal to one of my take-home paychecks each month.

I didn't want to take out another loan to consolidate, namely because I can be the poster girl for "you can't borrow your way out of debt." And there's no guarantee my credit union will give me one, but if they can get the three biggest albatrosses off my neck for a lower amount that can come out of each paycheck, I may get some breathing room. Breathing room especially important since a second job is not happening.

So I did that math and left for the paying job. After commute hell yesterday, the drive in was smooth and I was ahead of schedule, up to the Capitol building. That's where my tire blew. I managed to get into a parking lot near my building. Roadside assistance changed it to the donut so I didn't lose any time, but buying a new tire was not in the budget!



At this point, I am beyond ready for this week to end. And I think my car got jealous that I wasn't planning to spend any money on it beyond gasoline. Right now, it's been half the day and nothing has blown up, maybe I can work on Stellar Gift of Death.

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The BookWorm