You never give me (my) money

I really didn't forsee this Friday being worse than last Friday, but it managed to outdo it's older brother. Ah, kids.

Yes, so while I didn't collide with any wildlife today, and my car wasn't carted off on a flatbed truck for not starting, I did manage to not get the three weeks worth of pay I had coming. If you're keeping track, that means I haven't really been paid in two weeks. So I have $0. Actually, this morning I had -$45 in the bank, -$.78 in PayPal, and $25 in my pocket. So that's a grand total of $29.78 down. And we're not even talking about bills.

I'm not an overdrawn at the bank kind of lady (the PayPal thing happened because I didn't realize ol' PP charged a buck for ATM withdrawals). I was holding steady at $1.06 after the rent was paid (expecting a tidy sum to be deposited this afternoon -- where tidy is synonymous with measly). AND THEN! Lynda Barry finally cashed my $25 check. Which is magically awesome as I now have my own personal for real and amazing original drawing of Marlys and Arna eating sunflower seeds that says "To Dearest Jane" and a wonderfully nice and totally unnecessary note apologizing for the delay in doing the piece. I mean, who am I to rush Lynda Barry? And who am I to not have $25 in the bank. If not for that bastard EZ Pass, it all would have cleared nicely. But instead I was -$24. And then they took another $30 out as a hateful fee for covering my check for me (Thanks and all, though. How embarrassing it would have been to bounced the check, eh).

So my baby brother floated me $80 to get my bank balance back in the +#s. He's a good man.

Better about today was that The Girl brought home fish and chips for dinner, though last week I did have an amazing grilled ham and cheese sandwich.

Better than all of these times happened seven years ago today, when I met Chris Murphy, Andrew Scott and Kim Stitzel for the very first time. All in all, it's been a good show.