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The poverty journal
I can't be poor. I pay taxes.
Today, my sweet husband got so excited, and started talking about if he makes this much money every weekend, and I did not say, "and then the tax bill and the health care bill go up again." (This weekend's money will go toward his vacation: We take a long weekend vacation of 5 days, y'all, and Labor Day is it, thurs-mon)
I can't figure out what's going to happen to us because everything is too much money all the time.
I should tell the ACA what last year's income was again, or rather cop to it, because they're the government -- they know.
But I'm already behind several thousand dollars and the hemorrhaging does not seem to stop.
I am just going to keep writing here, but right now I'm depressed as fuck.
Today, my sweet husband got so excited, and started talking about if he makes this much money every weekend, and I did not say, "and then the tax bill and the health care bill go up again." (This weekend's money will go toward his vacation: We take a long weekend vacation of 5 days, y'all, and Labor Day is it, thurs-mon)
I can't figure out what's going to happen to us because everything is too much money all the time.
I should tell the ACA what last year's income was again, or rather cop to it, because they're the government -- they know.
But I'm already behind several thousand dollars and the hemorrhaging does not seem to stop.
I am just going to keep writing here, but right now I'm depressed as fuck.