Fuck It Friday (FIF)! Sporadic news and commentary of no interest to anyone ... FIF! The modified personal financial policy is the primary focus of this edition. Yes, this is Fuck It Friday!
Tuesday was sunny and warm, with the late afternoon being quite nice. So, on an impulse, a quick jaunt to Ala Moana Center ensued. A prime rib dinner, courtesy Lahaina Chicken, was in order. The last visit to the establishment was over four months ago. Dinner was superb. Then, shopping at Target® followed to exploit Circle Week deals on favorite food products. Fuck it!
Surprisingly, Wednesday was sunny and warm as well. Dinner was courtesy Panda Express® on King Street. Upon return to the “old folks home” Waikiki, another impulse decision was made to sashay over to Ala Moana Center again. The highlight, of course, was the purchase and consumption of a banana and a pint of Häagen-Dazs® ice cream for dessert from Target®. Fuck it!
The funds for empire and Hawai’i estimated taxes completed transfer to the local bank on Wednesday. Tax for empire was dispatched on Thursday. For Hawai’i, next Thursday is the target date. So, there goes another $2,240 into the ether. The miserly ways? On a death spiral (no pun intended). Fuck it!
The new personal finance policy? No “gnashing of teeth” about expenditures. Certainly, all discounts and loyalty rewards will continue to be exploited to the fullest. However, there will no longer be a hidden monthly expense ceiling. Inflation and “shrinkflation” are out of control. Expenses are going to keep increasing no matter what, so a static ceiling makes no sense. In addition, the artificial “savings” threshold for investment accounts has been abolished for the same reason. Fuck it!
The sunny and warm weather ended on Thursday. So, the Spring season is yet to arrive. The sky was overcast all day with high humidity indicative of rain. So, no evening outing was planned. Fuck it!
The rain finally arrived this morning. The annoying precipitation dissipated by noon. Thus, an evening outing to Ala Moana Center ensued for yet another Target® adventure. The need to force the outings upon self is imperative. These are the “twilight years” and sequestration in the tomb (read: mausoleum) is unacceptable. Fuck it!
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