So anyway, I add up my cash. Checking. Savings. Any freelance money comin' to me. You know it's a dismal day when I include my 401(k) "emergency funds." Then I add up my expenses, to see how much I need above and beyond my monthly gift from the taxpayers of Illinois. (Who really *could* be more generous, in my opinion.) Depending on my mood, I'll sometimes allow myself extra bacon for magazines and haircuts and dinners. But when I'm feeling particularly stern, I'll give myself, like, $15 a month in food money.

It never fails to become an incredibly complicated equation, but by the time I'm done, I know how long I have to live. That is immensely, disturbingly satisfying.

I'm currently at 22 months. I feel pretty good about that.

And Marisa?

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