Despite paying off almost all my credit card debt (I think this next check from my last huge freelance job will do it!), cash can sometimes be a tad low right before payday. For example. i.e. To wit: Yesterday I had $5 in checking.
Nice, June. And I DIDN’T TOUCH SAVINGS, I just went home and had popcorn for dinner, which is 8 points if you eat the whole goddamn bag, and of course I did, and now today I weigh two more pounds and GODDAMMIT.
“You don’t weigh yourself every day.” I can hear Ned’s sensible voice that I abhor. Remember when the internet said I had cankles and I was devastated? “You just need to really reduce carbs, and up your cardio.” Sensible voice. Oh, how I hate you, sensible voice.
Because you majored in aging-woman physiology, Ned. I remember now. Right.
So, I knew payday was either last night or tonight, I’m never quite clear on which, even though I’ve worked at my job for six years and four months. Anyway, I took a gander at m’checking account, and?
I have $15,000 in there.
“WOAH,” I said. That’s some paycheck.
I’d forgotten I refinanced my car loan, and that was the company giving me money to pay off the old loan. They have a lot of courage, don’t they? I could just abscond with that cash. Get in the car and take off for places unknown. I wonder where I’d go. With my big 15 thou. Maybe Paris.
Oh my god, nose job. Ooooo! Oh, sure, she now owes $30,000 on a 2012 car, but take a look at that patrician nose!
Also, my extremely modern Callenetics tape (not a tape) is lost in the mail. I got an email from Amazon (and by the way, that image up there is A LINK TO AMAZON! Go shopping! You want $15,000?) saying my package was “undeliverable.” I have lived here since 2008. I have probably had Amazon packages come here once a month, minimum, since that time. Oh, my exotic address, in the middle of a neighborhood in the middle of my town. Okay.
Anyway, after two nice talks with Kimberly and Beverly, from Amazon and our U.S. Postal Service, allegedly it will be here tonight. Who’s up for a Facebook Live of me doing the entire workout for the first time?
Who wants $15,000 instead?
See, this is why it’s better if I’m broke. I’m certain I’ve already told you that when I was 6, my parents and I were at a head shop, because of course we were, and my parents on the spot decided I should have an allowance, to teach me to be responsible with money.
Dear Mom and Dad: How’d that go?
So with me right there listening to their whole debate, it was decided I should be bequeathed one quarter a week. A thing I mention, by the way, in any work-related salary-history request. “Well, in 1971, I made a quarter a week.”
They placed that quarter into my no-impulse-control hand, and I spun
around the room, looking for what I could buy. My Aunt Mary started saving her allowance from day one. Thank god, cause she’s great to borrow money from when you’re in a pinch.
I bought a peacock feather, which to be fair I had on my headboard till 8th grade. Made a great cat toy! Not to mention a fine “It’s the 70s” decoration on your “It’s the 70s” wicker headboard.
What kinds of things from the 70s do you wish were still around? I don’t want to actually BUY any, but I’d love to be able to go to the store and just open the Prell. Sniff it a little.
Same with Noxema, which if I’m not mistaken, still exists.
I guess mostly I just wanna smell everything, because I also thought of Love’s Baby Soft right now. Also too, I’d like to say, “Let’s go visit gramma” and get in the car and there she’d be, in her knotty pine kitchen with her Cremora.
Okay, who knew? Go, Amazon.
Okay, Amazon is a fucking miracle.
Shit. I wanted my own gramma in her knotty pine kitchen, not Edie Gourmet or whoever this is. Why can’t I think of her name? Have I had a stroke? Laugh-In. Ernestine. Goddammit. All the rest of you are screaming her name at me right–LILY TOMLIN THANK GOD.
Well, the good news is, now I’ve put enough Amazon links in this bitch to ensure I’m a millionaire. Everyone who knows about this money-making scheme is all, “Oh, you should [insert clever marketing idea here that’s just slightly manipulative of you all].” And I always say, “What I do, see, is put links to Amazon in and I say, ‘Here is a link to Amazon. Go shop there so I make money.'”
I love it when people tell me how to talk to you, like I haven’t been doing so for years and suddenly I’m gonna become this super-phony saleswoman. Oh, but wait till Christmas. Ima be bonking you over the HEAD with Amazon ideas. I’ll be like the Bon Marche.
In Seattle, there was this department store called the Bon Marche, or, if you want to annoy me, The Bon. They always–ALWAYS–were having a sale, and on TV, 98 times a day, would be this ad, to the tune of Day-O.
Dayyyy-O! One-day saaaaaaale! One day only at the Bon Marche.
Oh my god.
My roommates at the time knew how I abhorred that commercial, and would always turn it up and yell for me when it came on. Also, there was a guy at work who’d absentmindedly go about the office singing: Day-O! Then 10 minutes later: One day saaaaale!
Oh, good. Those are some jeans and shirts, by the way.
I gotta go. First of all, havin’ a hot flash, tropical hot flash, and also I must shower.
Have a good DAY-O!