True tales of woe, stories of shame, and the occasional mean-spirited rant, by anonymous Bundle users
One day when my husband was at work, I noticed a stack of envelopes on his desk. I opened the first one, and a good thing, too: it was a bill that was due that week. Then I opened another, and another, and another. All unpaid bills. Immediately, I started thinking of reasons why he wouldn't have paid any of them yet--Were we bankrupt? Did he lose his job? Did we run out of stamps? Please, let it be the stamps!
It wasn't the stamps. I once gave my husband a leather purse with a broken strap that he claimed he could fix. I never saw it again. One of the chairs in our dining room set has a wobbly leg. It's disappeared into his office. Every time he offers to make breakfast for me or our kids, it ends up being lunch--even if it's eggs! It's my fault. I should've realized he wasn't going to be the financially responsible one after the third time he filed our taxes late.
That day, I started paying the bills. I grabbed his checkbook to make sure I wasn't deviating from his budget -- as if he had one! -- and I noticed that his payments were higher because of late fees. He had been paying late fees for the last seven months. Unbelievable. The next month, I didn't bother to bring him the bills. It took him three months to even wonder where they'd gone. Figures. I love him, but I thought when we said "For richer or for poorer," we'd both be working toward the first one. Now at least one of us is.
Go ahead, get it off your chest. Send your unsigned money-related secrets to confessions@bundle.com or, if you're feeling paranoid, submit at bundlehq.tumblr.com/submit.More confessions of shame, moochery and assorted other resentments:
- I lied to my boyfriend about my debt
- I clean this place. The least you could do is spring for the Windex
- Thanks for ruining our apartment. You owe me $1,000
