Observations while rearranging deck chairs

No, Bee, Long Suffering Spouse and I haven't gone on a cruise. (¡Ojala!)

I noticed, though, I haven't done one of those 'day in the life' posts for awhile.

That sort of post may not be particularly riveting for my legion of six or seven loyal readers, but when I whisper my Blogger password on my deathbed like Orson Wells in Citizen Kane, and the computer mouse drops from my fingers like the snow globe from the dying clutches of Charles Francis Kane, my heirs can enjoy hours or, more likely, minutes of amusement and fond recollection whilst wading through the archives.

And, no, my password is not "Rosebud."

And even it was, I changed it. So there.

I am at home now, about to leave for a meeting in the suburbs, a meeting at which a group of underemployed lawyers will tell lies to one another about our great plans to refer business to each other and thereby keep us all firmly anchored to the middle class. If all of the promised attendees show up, there'll be four of us. The gasoline will cost me more than I'll probably make as a result of the meeting.

But we must do something, eh?

In the meantime, I've not wasted the morning: I've spent the time rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

That's the expression I use to describe my the semi-monthly ritual of trying to squeeze too few dollars into too many bills.

I've become adept in walking charge card bills into the bank or store on the due date. There's a bunch due today and tomorrow.

I had hoped that more of my receivables would turn into actual money by this point in the month -- but, alas, it didn't happen. So, I'll be making minimum payments.

Again.

Actually, this is a step up for me.

I've learned a hard lesson in recent months. Wishing and hoping and planning and praying (you know -- that's a song lyric, isn't it?) for a check to come in the mail doesn't get it to the Undisclosed Location any faster. In the meantime, holding up the payment of a bill for an extra day or two in the hopes of paying more or even paying off the balance is entirely counterproductive.

I had one card on which a promotional rate of 1.5% went to 17% overnight because I walked in the payment a day late.

On another, the rate jumped from 12% to 36% for the same reason. (I've paid this one off... and, surprise, surprise, the rate went back to 12%. They're just baiting the trap, baby.)

From the suburbs, it'll be off to the Loop, driving Long Suffering Spouse's van. Despite my best efforts to control myself, I'm still wishing and hoping and planning and praying that today, maybe, please God, the postman will bring a check.

And you know the funny thing?

So far, this year is soooooo much better than last year.

Seriously.