So, what do you write about when every freaking day is the same … besides bitching about how every freaking day is the same?
So, The Wife and I are now in our fourth week of unemployment. We still have not received any unemployment money from the government. What savings was left, after getting into possibly the most ill-timed house purchase in the history of anything, is disappearing. I am constantly trying to do the math of how long I can continue to pay child support or, you know, buy food.
Now, granted, we have received such generous assistance that doomsday is further away than it would have been. Still, every day is the worst math story problem ever.
We have already turned off all of our non-essential expenses. Do you know how fun being quarantined is without things like Netflix, Spotify, or XBOX Live? We have called the folks holding our car loans, student loans, personal loans, etc. and have arranged for anywhere from two to three months of forbearance.
Our mortgage is another shit show entirely. Since we just purchased the house, our mortgage has not finished its journey to the folks who will be handling it, so we can’t even ask for a forbearance yet. Well, we can ask, and we did ask, and were told no. Meaning in just a couple of days, another chunk of change goes out the door without anything coming in.
It could be worse. I mean, I do have a house for which I can bitch about having to pay the mortgage despite Orange-45 saying I will be fine. Some might not even have that. Right? I mean, we have all heard stories of worse. I am grateful I am not one of those stories.
Still, one should not be able to easily count the hours it has been since one last cried. I have more fingers on one hand than those hours.