July 2, 2009
is just not peachy. Even though both credit cards on this account have been in my possession, someone managed to get the number on June 24th, attempted a $1 charge on it 50 miles away, and then went to (gas station) town on it the next day in the amounts of $85 and $75.
This is the reason I use credit cards instead of debit. I’m not responsible for those charges, or I shouldn’t be, anyway, and Chase has already closed that account and issued new cards. But I’m still ticked. I’ll be without my primary use card for five business days, smack dab in the middle of my trip which is inconvenient but how the heck did someone get the whole card number? That’s downright unsettling.
In any case, things seem to be well in hand for now. In ten business days, a set of Fraud Verification paperwork will need to be filled out and that should be the end of that. I hope.
July 21, 2008
Part of my flurry of life-rehab has been taking the dog for a walk every day after work. My hours finally get me home before dark these days, and I’ve been doing pretty well with taking her out between 3-5 times a week, depending on whether or not I’ve walked home from the train station.
As she and I meander through the neighborhoods, I count the For Sale signs on some lawns, and note the unshuttered, unblinded, dark-eyed gazes of those abandoned homes. I wonder, whatever happened to those people?
Out of curiosity, I examined the notice posted on the door of one of our former neighbors’ homes. It said that the owner of the home had been foreclosed on, and the renters were given 30 days to move out. We weren’t friends, but I’d seen the family members occasionally, nodded hello when walking the dog as they were watering their lawn. I wonder where they went and if they were able to find affordable and adequate housing elsewhere? The For Sale sign had been on their lawn for several long months, and my guess is that they either couldn’t find a buyer or the renters weren’t willing or able to purchase the home from the owners.
The real estate sign disappeared some time ago and at that point, I assumed it’d sold. Apparently not. I feel like a bit of a bad neighbor, having nary a clue what happened to the folks on the corner while the signs of prosperity, large trucks and SUVs, parties and such, were in ostentatious evidence right across the street from them. We’re quietly tucked into our corner sans claim to wealth, but right across the street from us, and across from the neighbors who quietly disappeared, it seems as though none of the troubles of the economy have remotely touched our neighbors across the street. It’s almost like we’re in two different worlds, and on our side of the street, a house has been claimed by the housing troubles with a most ominous sign: Bank owned property. I’d read quite a few stories in the Wall Street Journal of renters who were losing their homes because the owners of the rental homes were in over their heads, and always felt bad for those poor people. It’s a terrible feeling to be at your landlord’s mercy if you’re month to month, or setting a new lease, it’s even worse when you’re also dependent on their financial stability to maintain your home.
As a renter, that sign reminds me daily that my emergency fund and the down payment fund are critically important. While I have no reason to believe that our landlords are experiencing financial difficulties, they could easily decide to raise our rent beyond my strained budget, and we’d be in hot water soon enough. If nothing else, the down payment fund might have to play a bridging role by supplementing the increased rent until I managed to find cheaper lodgings or had enough to truly consider buying property. That involves complications in and of itself, especially with family and pets, but it’s not impossible, and I want to be be as ready as can be when the time comes.
May 7, 2008
Holy cheezits. I’ve got Bag Lady Syndrome today, and I’ve got it bad. I’m thinking to myself: 15k is good for an emergency (aka: I quit!) fund. But what about all those other things that could happen, like car problems ? That’s almost as certain as death and taxes, especially in the Ducky household. Or something goes terribly wrong with the house? Or if our rent suddenly increases astronomically? How would I cope with money-draining chaos if I’m reducing every expense I can think of and maximizing my income now, and still having a rough go of it?
PaDucky’s out of a job again because the company he was working for went out of business. He’s having a really hard time finding another one because of age discrimination. Prospective employers are telling him that they’re looking for younger people, which is foolish and rude. I wasn’t expecting to rely on his income any time soon, but he’ll certainly have to have one if I’m to implement my plan to move out.
Instead of panicking or becoming anxious, or resigning myself to living here forevermore, I kicked into super-analytical mode:
I should keep the 15k as a cash cushion for job loss.
Then start another emergency fund for catastrophes such as the above.
And bulk up the car maintenance fund by, say, another couple thousand.
And have a supplemental fund for rent, just in case the rent goes up insanely. [This is a possibility, our rent hasn’t been increased in years.]
And … and … and … whooooaaa!!!
That right there? I just tried to mentally justify building up 100k worth of what-if money because I’m paranoid. Where I’d get that extra 85k, Lord only knows, but the point is, I’m falling into that mentality where no amount is ever enough because I’m fueled entirely by emotion. Namely, fear.
It’s subsiding now that I’ve written it down and can see how ridiculous it looks on “paper”, but now I understand how easy it is to become Chicken Little and run from imagined terrors. I always wondered how people I consider comparatively or absolutely wealthy could look at what they have and still be afraid that they’ll be broke, but I realize that the problem is the mentality of what they don’t have, not what they do have.
It’s not that any of the above couldn’t happen, but a million other things that I couldn’t ever foresee could happen, too. I can’t live my life under a rock making lists of the things that could go wrong and how much money I’d need for it to be ok again. Silly ducky.
January 23, 2008
Puppies are soooo cute … and cuddly, and adorable, and lovable. Right up until they break your pants.
Alright, so little Miss M is still cute, but I’ve learned my lesson about trusting her off the leash: don’t!
She’s still a youngun, so I should have known better, but she’d been so complacent and trustworthy all day that when I took her out to do her business before we left work for the day, I didn’t bother to clip on her leash. Why bother? She’d been impossible to motivate beyond eating, drinking, sleeping and occasionally peeing the entire day. Uh-huh. The dang dog’s nocturnal!
We went outside and she moseyed around the planters, sniffing and twitching her tail, checking out possible Hot Spots. The second I stopped paying attention, she bolted for the center of the biggest, most overgrown planter in the courtyard. I jumped right in after her, grabbed for her collar and *shhhcrack!* I stopped. Dead in my tracks. Uhm-hm. That dog made me bust my jeans open.
*shaking head*
I couldn’t believe how breezy it was, suddenly. Luckily, it was dark, we were alone outside, and I had a long shirt on that almost covered up the hole.
After I got over my fit of giggles, I hauled Little Miss Wriggly back into the office, and clipped that leash right on. *tsk* See if I ever trust her again!
R reminded me to try the Stitch Witchery bonding tape from my sewing kit. The tear was straight, extending from the corner of my pocket up to the waistband, so I found some cute green ladybug scrap fabric, and gave it a whirl. The jeans are hanging up to dry now, but it looks like the bonding tape did the job and sealed up the edges of the hole perfectly. Now I can add some stitching to reinforce the repair job, and hide the fact that my jeans had a temporary back door.
In the meantime, I inducted my backup jeans from the New York trip into the jeans rotations. It can sub in for the other jeans until they’re all better. Thank goodness for back-up clothing!