Sep 10th, 2012 by Jennifer Lynn
God, I hate bills.
Every so often I retreat to my work area, clutching tattered scraps of invoices and receipts, and indulge in a heinously liberating tantrum of writhing in a corner and having a moan while banging my head against the hardwood.
While chanting: go away, bills, gooo awaaayyyy. (thrashing and banging)
Then someone kindheartedly intervenes at some point during this bizarre ritual to peel me from the floor.
This is one reason I’m so anal about paying my credit card bills promptly after making a purchase, before the monthly billing cycle closes out. Although I love the rewards incentive for utilizing plastic instead of cash, I hate owing anyone anything.
M. will quite calmly allow his bills to pile up and fester in some stark corner of the apartment, unopened. “Oh, this was due two days ago,” he will nonchalantly say. “Pass me the corn chips?”
You do not want to see my spazzed-out reaction to money being pissed away on late fees.
We are works in progress.
Developments afoot—M. is on a rigorous credit-repair regime and, inevitably, I have taken over all bill-paying duties for our household.