Just got off the phone with a debt collector, you know me and my debt problems. Well this is actually the second time I've gotten off the phone with a debt collector in as many weeks. (That ended in an actual money-will-be-paid resolution and not an I'm-hanging-up-the-phone-now-before-I-threaten-your-life-and-your-children resolution. Which isn't really a resolution, now that I think about it.) So I now have payment plans set up for the next nine months, in an attempt to get closer to being in good standing with Sallie Mae and my credit report. An attempt. Meaning what I've just set up, and agreed to pay, does not mean I'm out of collections. It just means when nine months is up, I'll be a little bit closer to it. Yay.
Note to self: the next time you're working a M-F job with weekends off, always, that ensures a minimum of 32 hours a week... don't fucking quit because you hate smelling like bread and onions when you leave work. Oh no, you have to shower before you can do anything after work. Boo fuckin' hoo, you whiny bitch. If you are going to quit, for the love of Christ, make sure you're moving, if not up, at least laterally. Yeah sure, being an adult sucks. Being an irresponsible adult sucks even more. Working in food service at 21 after graduating from a technical school with a pretty much useless two-year degree doesn't mean you're wasting your life, or that you've crushed your own dreams. Being 24, not being able to even think about buying a house, a new car, getting a loan for anything, getting rid of the mold under your living room carpet, taking a vacation, getting a new sofa because the bottom is literally falling out from under your current, or having a baby; this is wasting your life. This is you crushing your own dreams. Because you thought a job with fewer hours, by a lot, that paid less, by a lot, was better somehow than making sandwiches for seven hours a day, Monday through Friday, and never having to work weekends or holidays. You can be such a stupid cow.
So yeah, I'm a little bitter right now. To appease my anger, I'm going to stroll around Target with mom today and put a lot of things in the buggy that I say I'm going to buy even though I don't really have the money right now, but then before I check out, I'll start to feel guilty. Catholic guilty, even. And I'll put most of it back. But not that one item, whatever that item may be today, even if it's just a $1 bottle of nail polish (what up, New York Color?). Because I need to purchase that one thing. It lets me feel like I'm still in control of my finances. Spending that $1 and whatever the tax comes out to will help me feel like my life isn't spiraling into chaos, like it clearly is.
I finally get shopaholics. It's a control issue, even if it's deluding yourself into thinking you have control over not having control. And I am a control freak. So I will buy nail polish and pretend that the money I'm spending is my money. Though we all know it's really not.
