There was an eviction notice on my door. I called my landlord.

He didn’t believe I’d been paying my rent. “If you’re so sure, then you can bring me some official bank statements.”

It was hard to sleep that night, and not just because of the freight trains that roared by every hour.

The next morning, I took a personal day from work and canceled my classes. Then I got notarized documents from my bank, proving beyond any doubt that I’d submitted checks to my landlord’s business, and those checks had been deposited. I dug out my original lease agreement…

My father-in-law never had to invest in the stock market. He dabbled. For him, it was more of a hobby than anything. His wealth came from one place — his job. He spent forty years doing the same thing. Eventually, his boss partnered with him to buy some real estate.

He became a landlord.

My in-laws paid off their house ages ago. They recently built an extension, using money they inherited from their parents, who’ve owned hundreds of acres of land since the early 1900s. Whenever they need a little quick cash, they sell some of their timber.

My in-laws…

At first I was afraid — I was petrified. I kept thinking how easy it was to transfer tens of thousands of dollars into an app, to buy something I’d never be able to see or touch, because it only existed in shard imagination. I’d basically used money to buy different money.

Then came the endorphins. I was hooked.

Here’s why:

I was tired of being responsible with my money.

Let’s face it, our culture rewards gamblers. It doesn’t reward talented people who work hard and save their money, not anymore.

People like me are punished and ridiculed. Wall Street pricks laugh at us, because they know we’re always…

She supported him for seven years, including their mortgage payments. It was the kind of place most of us only dreamed of owning — not just because of the size, but also the location. They lived in one of those historic neighborhoods near the university, the same one where I’d worked my butt off as an underpaid teaching assistant. They were always throwing parties full of local politicians and successful authors like them.

Then they broke up.

It was nasty. They’d never officially gotten married, which left them navigating the rocky laws of common law. …

They’re already cracking into their survival buckets.

Yeah, buckets.

A survival bucket is like a KFC bucket, except it lasts for 30 days. You don’t want to think about what it does to your bowels.

That’s what Jean-Michel Connard’s brother resorted to in Texas this week. The survival bucket. He’s been dreaming of civilization falling apart for months now. Turns out, the guy wasn’t even ready for a power outage. He can’t cook anything. He can’t open any of his canned food.

Take a look:

The brother’s brilliant survival plan depended on natural gas and kitchen appliances, including an…

They thought it was going to make them rich.

Some of them still do.

Desperate to cash in on this year’s crypto boom, thousands of financially-distressed pilgrims around the world sank their savings into a joke coin that a software engineer designed on a lazy afternoon. Until 2021 financial mania hit, dogecoin was basically worthless.

Even people like me who’d heard about doge years ago had forgotten about it. The coin was an internet relic, like MySpace and Geocities.

Now it’s a cautionary tale happening in real time.

The tail is wagging the dog.

Literally.

Dogecoin was a scam waiting to happen (again).

Dogecoin was just waiting to…

I used to look forward to the future.

Now it paralyzes me.

To deal with this, I slip on an Oculus headset my husband got last Christmas and sit there in the home screen environment, a warm cabin in the mountains under the northern lights. I don’t play any games. Instead I pretend this is where I live, away from everything, in nature. I wonder when I’ll be able to get to the real mountains again.

After a while, my brain tells me screw the real mountains. These fake mountains are prettier. …

It’s hard to act like something matters when you already know the outcome, no matter how disappointing it is. That’s exactly how I’d describe the tone and tenor of this impeachment trial.

But, it does matter.

In this case, almost everyone knows Donald Trump won’t be convicted when the senate casts their vote. There aren’t enough sane Republicans with a backbone. This shouldn’t surprise anyone.

Trump himself might be finished, politically speaking. That doesn’t matter either. See, he might find himself in a better position to operate outside the arena, and to reprise an old role. …