Five missed calls from my grandmother. Five. Someone must have died. No one ever has anything that urgent to call me about unless something at my employer broke and I need to drive in to fix it.

I return her call and I’m asked if I did my taxes yet. Of course. I’ve bought a good many things I’ve needed. It’s been a rough year. We’ve even spoiled ourselves for going without for so long. We have deserved it, having struggled through. Unlike my snake of an ex who has her rent paid in full with child support. I’ve had to put blood, sweat, and tears into everything I’ve earned. No free rides. I pay my dues, even if it’s just shoe money for a section 8 recipient.