Bills suck

Not the Buffalo Bills. Well, actually they suck too. But I'm talking about the bills that drain the old bank account on a monthly basis. Now I'm not talking about the type of suck like "god I hate paying bills" I mean like "god I hate what my bills have turned me into."

Last night the family got home from Thanksgiving in Virginia. (Incidentally, a great thing to do after your entire family spends an entire day together is to spend the proceeding day shooting paintballs at each other. Extremely therapeutic.) After unloading the car and returning the Blu-Ray that was grossly overdue I went down and got the mail, brought it inside, and gave it to the fiance. I walked away for a minute and came back and she told me what the PECO bill was. (By the way, fuck you PECO.) Well the bill was like a third of what it usually is and when I heard this I got very excited. The first thing that went through my mind was our household budget and how we could use the extra money that had been allotted for PECO for the Christmas Eve dinner we are going to have.

Fuck you bills. I got excited because one of you was much lower than I had planned for you to be. It's depressing really. It's not that I mind being glad about a bill being low. It's the degree of excitement that I experienced. It's the type of excitement I experienced in college when I found out that there would be a great special at a bar, or that a paper got pushed back a week. It wasn't quite the type of excitement that I experience when my favorite sports teams win, but for one very brief second it came close; and that is infuriating.

I appreciate that it's extremely immature to complain about something like this but holy shit was it sad. I got engaged. I live with the fiance and the step daughter, wake up and go to work every day, pay my taxes, and do all types of things that I don't want to do (which I'm pretty sure is the worst part of it) but it was getting excited about a bill being low that walloped me in the face with getting grown up and responsible and all that it entails. I believe I had previously enjoyed deluding myself into thinking that I was still 20 years old but now realize I'm emotionally although not chronologically closer to 40. And one wonders why I'm such a lunatic.

And that is why this blog is my therapy. It's so much cheaper. (Again with the bills, guh.) I do apologize for the less entertaining neurosis than usual.