I lost a job, suffered through a broken engagement, and worried about my five-figure credit card debt. Enter Rich Friend and her fountain pen.
My last relationship was draining, financially and otherwise; this time around, I’m determined to keep costs reasonable. If things don’t work between him and me, neither of us won’t be cleaned out financially.
Our relationship was a smoothie blend of hotel living, boozy dinners, plane tickets, and general money wastage.
Let’s say I have more disposable income in 10 years, and the Pacific Northwest hasn’t been crushed by a wall of water. That’s when I get to start giving back, right?
There is a mystery sleeping in bed with you every night, a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in Snoopy pajamas, and you should shake it awake, ideally at 4:23 AM, and demand that it reveal its secrets.
Normally, we don’t talk about work. Our conversations are limited mostly to mutual complaints and pointed inquiries as to whether or not any of my other sisters are in the room to talk on the phone as well. This visit, things were different.
“What is the point of getting engaged anymore?”
It was time to have the talk — the one where I found out if my mom had any money set aside for our weddings and what implications that might have on planning a wedding in the future.
Yes, therapy is included in these costs.
Will domestic partnership-type arrangements still be honored by employers?