We’ve been excitedly anticipating getting our deposit back from our landlord. (He basically told us that we left the apartment looking shockingly beautiful, so we’re sure to get it back.) Maybe we’ll see a movie. Maybe we’ll buy tic-tacs. Maybe we’ll restart an emergency fund of more than fifteen dollars.
But Friday happened. Last night, right before, “I love you; sleep well,” my husband said, “I bet our car’s repairs are going to cost the same as our deposit.” And I said something like, “Shut up.” And he said, “No – it’ll cost fifty dollars less than our deposit,” since we’ll need extra gas money for the car that runs.
No matter how much extra money we come across in a month, we are always, always forced to spend that amount on something closely resembling an emergency.
Would you like to guess how much our car repairs will cost? Yep. 50 bucks less than the amount of our deposit.
Really, universe? This is not even original.