Monday night, my phone died. It was never a very good phone. (OK, it was a piece of shit.) And it was 2 1/2 years old, so it wasn't a surprise. It just didn't make me happy because I'm very short of funds this month.
I replaced it with an LG Aristo, the cheapest one they had. $50 down and $6/month for the next two years. It's fine. It has a better camera than my old phone did, and if this phone lasts 2 1/2 years, I'll consider it a god value. I just didn't feel like buying a new phone now. But I need to be able to text and access my Uber/Lyft accounts, and since I'll be traveling again at Christmas, I need a phone that's up and running. It is what it is.
Then tonight my Ventra card crapped out. I need it to board the el every day, twice a day. It had more than $30 on it. The CTA will send me a new card with my funds loaded on it -- minus a $5 processing fee -- but that will take a week. So on the way home, I had to buy and fund another card. Sigh.
I'm so fucking sick of worrying about money.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I hate adulting.
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