Guess who’s back…back again…
Friends, Romans, countrymen (and random internet strangers who stumbled here by accident), lend me your eyes—I’m BACK. Yes, I know, my disappearance was dramatic. No, it wasn’t because I ran off to Bali or joined a silent retreat. It was because my laptop died. A tragic, screen-gone-black, can’t-even-turn-on kind of death.
Now, a younger, less-frugal version of me would’ve panic-bought the fanciest, shiniest MacBook on the shelf, convincing myself it was an “investment.” But this newer, slightly more disciplined, financially-responsible version of me did the unthinkable: I waited. I saved. I compared prices. I said no to the $2,000 laptop that claimed to make me 40% more productive (lies). And now, here I am, typing to you from a very humble $175 Chromebook. Is it flashy? No. But does it allow me to once again grace you all with my wit, vulnerability, and oversharing? Absolutely.
Personal Finance Updates: Adulting at its Finest
Let’s catch up, shall we?
- Child Support: Last time we talked, child support had ghosted me harder than a bad Hinge date. But now? It’s flowing freely again. Praise hands emoji. 🙌
- Bruce’s Medical Drama: You might recall my last post where my poor dog, Bruce, was producing bloody puddles. (I wish I was exaggerating.) Emergency vet visits are not cheap, but I’ve since replenished my pet sinking fund, because apparently being a grown-up means preparing for both an endless supply of child-approved snacks and midnight runs to the vet. I was actually able to rebuild it more quickly than I anticipated which was reassuring. I must be doing something right.
- Emergency Fund: Currently flexing a $2,500 emergency fund. To some, that’s pocket change. To me, it’s the equivalent of having Beyoncé money. I catch myself opening my banking app just to admire it, like, “Wow… look at me not being broke.”
- Debt Progress: These days, I’m funneling money into my National Debt Relief account like I’m trying to win a carnival game. Every payment feels like knocking down one more creepy clown face. Victory is coming—I can smell it. (Or maybe that’s just my two-year-old’s forgotten sippy cup. Hard to tell.)
- Halloween Win: I responsibly used my Halloween sinking fund to buy the kids’ costumes. My 10-year-old’s was a $5 steal from Facebook Marketplace. Total costume spend: $40. Decorations purchased: zero. Did I want a life-sized skeleton holding a pumpkin spice latte? Yes. Did I resist? Also yes. Which means I still have $210 in my Halloween sinking fund. I also skipped getting myself a costume, because honestly? “Overwhelmed single mom with chemo hair” already felt festive enough.
- Impulse Buys (Because I’m Still Me): Now, don’t go thinking I’ve completely transformed into a money saint. Yes, I skipped the $2,000 laptop. But did I impulse-buy an original Spice Girls t-shirt the second I saw it? 100%. No regrets.
- Medical Bill Mayhem: Remember that $16,000 mountain of bills looming over me like a villain in a Marvel movie? Some claims got reprocessed as in-network and dropped it to $4,000. That’s still gross, but it’s the financial equivalent of switching from fighting a dragon to fighting a cranky raccoon. Meanwhile, $29,000 worth of other claims are still “processing,” which I’m choosing to believe is code for “we’re fixing it, please don’t sue us.”
Cancer Update: Chemo-lite with a Side of Peach Fuzz
I got my pathology results back after surgery. The good news: they got all the cancer out. Clear margins. Confetti-worthy. 🎉
The catch? There was residual cancer there that they had to get out…which means my treatment plan had to change. I’m now doing 14 cycles of targeted chemo—one every three weeks. That’s about a year of chemo-lite. I’ve had two infusions so far, and while it’s still chemo (so fun levels: zero), it’s been much more manageable than the full-system chemo I endured before. Fatigue and mild nausea have been the main side effects, which, in the world of chemo, feels like winning the lottery.
And here’s the part that deserves its own parade: my hair is growing back. Yes, even while on this new chemo. Hallelujah! At the moment, it’s giving strong “Chia Pet in progress” vibes—tiny fuzz sprouting up everywhere. If you squint, I’m basically a very glamorous porcupine.
The bonus round: my insurance isn’t fighting me on this chemo. Double hallelujah. One less battle to wage.
Next up: radiation starting October 2nd. I’ll be driving an hour each way, every morning at 8:00 a.m., for a month. Side effects will include fatigue and skin irritation/burning, which sounds like a really terrible vacation package. My plan? Treat it like a job. Clock in, get it done, and look forward to being done by the end of October (which also happens to be my birthday–happy birthday to me!)
A Bucket List Surprise: I Wrote a Book!
While preparing for surgery, one of my biggest worries as a single mom was how to explain to my 2-year-old that I wouldn’t be able to pick him up for a while afterward. I searched for a children’s book to help… and found nothing. Nada. Zilch.
So, in true “if you want something done right, do it yourself” fashion, I wrote one. And not only did I write it—I hired an illustrator who brought it to life beautifully. It wasn’t finished in time for me to read to my son before my own surgery (I know, classic irony), but I’m praying it will be a comfort and tool for other moms walking the same road.
It’s in the final stages of review and will be available on Amazon very soon. Stay tuned for the official launch announcement—coming to a city near you (and by “city,” I mean the internet).
And writing this book has lit a creative fire under me. I already have ideas for more children’s books—this time not cancer-related. (Praise be.)
Watch out, Dr. Seuss, I’m coming for you.
So here I am: armed with a $175 Chromebook, a replenished emergency fund, a lighter medical debt load, a year of chemo ahead, radiation on the calendar, and a children’s book about to launch. I’m learning that life—even in chaos—gives us little moments of humor, grace, and victory to hold on to.
Stick around—my next post will include even more financial updates, treatment chronicles, and probably at least one story about my toddler doing something both adorable and wildly inconvenient.
Until then—spend wisely, laugh often, and keep showing up.
Signing off from my $175 Chromebook, with fuzz on my head and girl power in my heart–
Your frugal, slightly feral, Spice-Girl-powered single mom ❤️