A Bird in Hand Flies Away
As the end of the month approaches, the looming promise of the next paycheck appears like a goddess bathed in ethereal light. Until you hold it in your hand. Then you remember all the bills you've been putting off until the arrival of this promise. The promise turns into the canned laughter of a sitcom.
I don't know. Lately, new bills and new monetary comprimises seem to appear like a bad magician. I think, okay, I have to pay this, and that I have to pay the next month. In between maybe I can set aside some money toward a vacation next year. What a joke! The parcas seem to hear me think about saving money and award me with something else I must pay. And since some wise guy at the beginning of the last century decided workers in Spain should be paid monthly, keeping a monthly budget is insane some months. Sometimes, during the last week and a half of the month, I find myself scrounging for forgotten money in pockets, drawers, even in books, in case I had used a bill as a bookmark once upon a wealthier time. I calculate on what days I can pay with a credit card so as to put off actual payment as long as possible. Which doesn't always work out because sometimes the month on which payment finally falls I have three other things to pay, as well.
To me the wonderful part of winning the lottery isn't buying a new yacht, or a flashy car, or a mansion on the Riviera. It's about being able to pay off all the bills at the end of the month without crying.
I don't know. Lately, new bills and new monetary comprimises seem to appear like a bad magician. I think, okay, I have to pay this, and that I have to pay the next month. In between maybe I can set aside some money toward a vacation next year. What a joke! The parcas seem to hear me think about saving money and award me with something else I must pay. And since some wise guy at the beginning of the last century decided workers in Spain should be paid monthly, keeping a monthly budget is insane some months. Sometimes, during the last week and a half of the month, I find myself scrounging for forgotten money in pockets, drawers, even in books, in case I had used a bill as a bookmark once upon a wealthier time. I calculate on what days I can pay with a credit card so as to put off actual payment as long as possible. Which doesn't always work out because sometimes the month on which payment finally falls I have three other things to pay, as well.
To me the wonderful part of winning the lottery isn't buying a new yacht, or a flashy car, or a mansion on the Riviera. It's about being able to pay off all the bills at the end of the month without crying.
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