...And Out the Door I Went

This weekend, I planned on packing. While I did make quite a bit of headway in packing up all my earthly belongings into boxes I stole from work for the second time in six months, I know I'm going to be in a sleepless panic in a couple weeks when I find nooks and crannies full of crap I forgot I even owned. I do feel a lot less nervous about it than I did last time, mainly because all of my crap is in one room and not strewn about with other people's stuff. But the football games distracted me from my cause (seriously, it took four years off my life to watch the Pats game and dogs all across the North End were deafened by my shrieks) and I will be kicking my own ass in a couple weeks.

I got paid on Friday, so I paid my bills. Since I paid my last month's rent when I moved in, I still had quite a big chunk of change in the bank from the beginning of the month. On Friday, I paid off the balance on my renter's insurance policy, paid a few hundred dollars towards various credit card bills, paid my loans, put some money on my CharlieTicket, and even managed to have a couple hundred bucks to save for deposits on a new place. Even after all that, I probably have enough money to get me to the end of the month.

Not paying rent is the best thing that ever happened to me.

Yesterday, I was in Rhode Island taking my Mom to the surgeon to get the scoop on her newest arthritis-related surgery, and since she was so good at the doctor (read: not openly sobbing) I took her to lunch. Generally, I can't afford to buy my Mom anything much more than a coffee. But I turned away her money and bought the woman a quiche. And it felt good to treat her. I can't do that when I have to pay rent to some slumlord in West Roxbury, but I can when I haven't paid up about a third of my monthly income to have a roof with rats in it. This is just a temporary thrill-- at the end of the month, I have to save what I would spend in rent for deposits on a new place. But for now, it's glorious to have made headway in my debts and have a renter's policy paid in full.

And, if I may get preachy, you MUST get renter's insurance. Seriously. You need to have it. After having the cost of replacing everything I own flash before my eyes as my bathroom burned, it seems like a good deal to pay about $240 a year to have the assurance that someone will help me pay to get all my stuff back if something should happen to it. A friend of mine also recently got broken into (most likely by a crooked maintenance person who had a key) and lost her laptop, digital camera, memory card, DVD player, her roommate's laptop, DVDs and backpack. She didn't have renter's insurance, and is now on the hook to replace all these things herself. It's a small price to pay for the peace of mind that you won't have to worry about the financial hit you'd take in such an emotionally challenging time. My Liberty Mutual guy is really sweet and very helpful. Don't fuck around. Be an adult and get some insurance.