Today my car was repossessed.
There, I said it.
I feel it. I feel the judgment. I know you have questions.
Guess what. More than embarrassed about my car being repossessed, I’m embarrassed by the how and why.
Before the was Entrepreneur Media to call my employment home, there was Know More Media. It was the bestest job a fledgling college grad chomping at the bit for a publishing gig could ask for…But…as so many startups do, Know More Media went under and with its collapse, I was unemployed for 6 months. No savings, just a cheap apartment, a laptop and a car that got me around town.
With a note bigger than the rent on my cheap apartment.
And I missed a few payments.
When I finally did get a job, it was always about playing financial catchup. Nothing ever got paid on time and my checking account is almost always in the negative before the next pay check comes.
Sure my life is dramatically different: more money, reliable transportation, a great deal an a cute place, kid in a good school. Single mom living the life.
But sometimes getting bills paid is fucking hard.
And sometimes I have to make choices where neither option is desirable. Pay the electricity bill or the phone bill. Pay the rent or be evicted. Pay the cable/internet bill or put gas in my car. Pay the car note or get food.
These are the choices I face.
And I want to get to a place where I’m not scraping for the basics and ends still not meeting. I’ve been entertaining various ways to make that happen and honestly the only one that seems remotely appealing is working more. Busting my butt until I’m drawing from a steady stream of freelance projects to be in business. The kind of business that can provide a nice life for me and my kids.
So yeah, my car got repossessed. Shit happens. I’ll get over it and get another after I save the cash. I’ll start seeing what kind of support system I have out here, where I really feel like I’m isolated and alone (Not the big bad world silly, just in the new city. I’ve only been here a year). I’m really hoping one of the parents around here will let the boy hang out with their kid in the morning because I have to leave so early to get on the bus. Last resort, I’ll give him a key and teach him to get himself out of the house in the morning.
You do what you have to do right?
I’ll get all my ducks in a row this weekend and starting Monday, I’m on public transportation.
I’m really worried about how my grandmother will get her medicine until I have a car again.