About Being Told We Solicit Too Much.

The line between asking for money too often and not asking enough is a lot like my wife’s internal thermostat and emotional state during pregnancy. There is a fine, moving line between sweating and freezing, and between crying and laughing.

(Sidenote to the single males: This next paragraph might sound like I’m just trying to exaggerate to make things funnier. In reality, I’m scaling back the details so as to not get in trouble with my wife. No, really.) Continue reading “About Being Told We Solicit Too Much.”

About Direct Deposit, Pixies, and Jai Alai.

I’m not sure who the guy was who came up with routing numbers, but I’d kiss him on the mouth if I met him. Even if he’s like 95 years old and a smoker, with an unkempt handlebar mustache.

It’s like an entire clan of magical pixies met up at a conference that just happened to be next door to a bank, and the result was a way for me to get money out of the bank without even going into it. Pure magic, I say. Continue reading “About Direct Deposit, Pixies, and Jai Alai.”