When I reached retirement age, I really had no hope of getting on Social Security. I had a major run in with the IRS back in Washington State, from past sins of the late seventies. I figured me and the Government were at odds for good.

Steph convinced me to apply anyway, so I did, and got it. I owe her for that. If I didn't have that money coming in every month (currently at $1,391), I would have blown through my savings and been on the street long before now.

The IRS grabbed an amount off my first check back there in Idaho, but they changed their mind, and have grabbed nothing since. I ended up in this magical state where I don't file taxes on anything I bring in. Sometimes it pays to be old.

So I can live off of SS, until I'm gone. If I did nothing other than survive, like pay my rent, pay for utilities and services, and buy food and gas, I could make it.

Anything above that, like travel and toys, comes out of my fixed stash, which will eventually run out.

You know, I piss and moan about my life, but I really am lucky. I answer to nobody but myself. I can do whatever the fuck I want to do, whenever I fucking want to do it. How many of you can say the same?

So I'll keep on going until I can't, drive my stash down to nothing, and then just survive...