My final job check came and dissolved into my slowly evaporating pool of cash on hand, mitigated slightly by regular infusions from the New York State Department of Labor.
“What the patient really needs is better insurance.”
The physician said it abruptly, matter-of-factly. Her comment was not meant to evoke empathy in the rest of the medical team. She stated it like a diagnosis.
I was very glad that I activated a global cellphone plan before leaving on my trip.
I came of age when music videos were still a big deal, Rolling Stone created controversial covers, and in order to guarantee album sales, an artist had to visit TRL and ham it up with Carson Daly.
When considering all the times I broke down apartments and set them up again in new places, it’s clear to me that the first anxiety-inducing thing that comes to mind is the stuff of it all.
My parents were never good with money. What they taught me about finances, they taught me by showing me what not to do. So it was no surprise that my parents didn’t have anything saved for my wedding.
I researched alternative treatments online and bought fancy cat food and changed his litter constantly and redressed his wound and held him and cooed at him. I couldn’t afford to go to a new vet and start the whole process over just to get a second opinion.
Romance is fine and good but how much money are we talking about?
The systems crashes and the alarm ringtone glitch I can handle, but not the social cost of having to depend on my friends for rides.
How a “rich, white males” quote in an editorial in a college newspaper jeopardized its future.
We hear a lot about the cost of illness, whether physical or mental, but it’s the way these costs are presented that is perhaps most troubling.
At the beginning of the summer, I estimated that I’d spend $3,270 on travel and “summer adventures,” and I am not quite halfway there.
I don’t think I’m being dramatic when I say that I was dead wrong about my ability to handle the heat.
I don’t make a lot of money, but I also don’t believe in baby showers. So when my husband and I learned we were expecting two years ago, we decided not to have one, but were nervous about the expenses that our little one would incur.
Linda actually bumped into Hayley Williams, Paramore’s lead singer on the cruise, and she said the band wanted to make the cruise a tradition, and so Linda started saving for that potential as soon as she’d paid her grandmother back. “This time around, I’m selling a kidney,” she said before adding, “Just kidding! … But there’s no way I’m not going.”