Brinens and Things

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brin-bellway:

I have collected the data and calculated the results for 2017, and the main result is:

Over the past six months, we were short an average of $65/week. Just $65. That’s all.

(Considering how large some of the outlier charges were, there must have been some individual weeks in which we had more money at the end of the week than at the start. Maybe even individual months.)

We are *damn* close, and this could very well be the year we get in the black.

*sigh*

Okay, so this is very embarrassing, and also bad even if you ignore the embarrassment factor, but I told you the first thing and so I feel obligated to tell you the second.

I am issuing a retraction. When calculating our income for the latter half of 2017, I failed to notice that one of the entries was not actually income, but rather a transfer from a retirement account (an account which, by the way, is now empty, and so will not be able to help us in the future).

The actual shortage is about $360/week. If, as we are planning to do, we drop the less cost-effective of the two life-insurance policies, this drops to $185. Still possible (13 more minimum-wage hours would do it), but rather less so.

(I suppose if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is)

(what does it say about my life that “only short $65/week” is too good to be true)

Tags:

#both of my parents appear to be in that awkward stage of life #where you’re too fucked up to perform able-bodied work but not fucked up enough to be Legally Disabled and get help that way #I mention this because of the possible positive resolutions to this predicament #one of the more likely ones is ”a parent manages to find a job they are actually capable of doing and which is willing to hire them” #but they keep looking and often all they find is jobs requiring traits like #”must be able to stand up for several hours straight” #or #”must have good hearing” #or for Dad #”must be able to act as if one is reasonably happy to be there” #(like) #(I manage to mostly skip the emotional-labour parts of my fast-food job) #(by being *genuinely* happy to be there and so not having to fake it) #(but even when Dad is happy it’s hard to *tell* that he’s happy) #((not to mention that he *wouldn’t* be happy)) #((because depression + overly high standards)) #adventures in human capitalism #oh look an update #tag rambles #oh look an original post #(ish)