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in which she fusses about money

Friday would have been my aunt Do’s 99th birthday. We all thought she’d get to 100, until her fall on the area rug by her bed that she refused to get rid of. I miss you, Do.

It’s Sunday morning of a long grey wet weekend – constant rain since Friday morning. Your faithful correspondent has a bad cold, with much snuffling and stuffed head. So happy to be sick at home and not on the road.

But I got a lot done yesterday. Bill my helper came over and we carted stuff about – boxes of books back into my bedroom, furniture moved around in the basement, tote that barge, lift that bale. Should not have done so much, definitely made myself worse, but it had to be done. Got some groceries, especially my most fave things, Tangelos. They even have Tangelos in Europe now. Pure health in an orange sphere.

But then there was the bad news. I got the plumber’s bill for coming three times to check the sump pump and finally installing a new one: $1455. Plus I’ll have to buy a new carpet as the one there was ruined. And then I got my income tax bill from the friend who does my taxes. On top of what I owe for the renovation.

Debt. I hate debt, yet here we are. I now have a one-bedroom flat in the basement, a cathedral ceiling and walk-in closet on my second floor, a private rentable space on the third. And I have debt.

I know, it seems hypocritical for a woman who has just spent 3 weeks in Europe to moan about debt. I assure you my trips to Europe are about as thrifty as such journeys can be; the funky little apartment in the 12th Lynn found us cost about 55 euros each a night, unheard-of in central Paris. We ate in more than we ate out. But still – travel is a luxury, and it costs. On top of the reno. So much money flowing out, time for some to start flowing in. A bit of fretting going on here.

Teaching starts in a week, and the same day, the basement tenant moves in, so both spaces are rented. I’ll start to fill the coffers again. No spending except on essentials until the debt is under control. As the Beatles sang, Your lovin’ gives me a thrill, but your loving don’t pay my bills.

Happy Easter, Happy Passover, whatever you celebrate, I hope you have friends and family and a feast somewhere. Without incurring too much expense.

Oh – and my talented student Jennifer Venner has a powerful, searingly honest piece in The Walrus. Terrific work.



2 Responses to “in which she fusses about money”

  1. theresa says:

    Jennifer's piece is wonderful. Debt might be another word for investment, though? That you've made a significant investment in the future, for comfort, space, possibility?

  2. beth says:

    Thank you, Theresa, for this fresh POV, which I need to hear. Yes, investment, definitely and long term, very worth it. Short term, however, it weighs. But the sun has just come out, so everything looks much brighter now.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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