I was already a week behind on the rent (and wouldn’t be living for Boston for another 3 weeks), had no job, and no money. As I walked back to my car, I found myself thinking about the piles of mail I had woefully neglected for quite some time. Then it hit me: credit cards send you those convenience checks where you can just write them out and have the cash you need. Eureka; I could pay my rent!!

I hopped in my car, sped home, and tore through the envelopes. I wildly threw the papers everywhere, searching only for the glorious checks that Citibank had sent me time and time again.

A Hair-Brained Idea

At last, I found a set. I held it up, beaming; proud of myself for figuring out some way to get out of this mess. I ran out of my apartment and headed to the nearest Wells Fargo.

As I stood nervously in line, I ignored all of the feelings and instincts screaming at me that this wasn’t a good idea. But as the next available teller smiled and asked me how he could help, I timidly set the checks–hands trembling–on the counter and squeaked that I’d like to write one out for cash.

His response?

He laughed at me!

Apparently, the type of check I was trying to use as a cash advance was only good for balance transfers. Furthermore, with the amount of credit card debt I was carrying (about $13K at the time), there was no way my available credit could accommodate the cash advance, associated fees, and immediate interest. Essentially, I had nothing but a piece of useless paper in my hands.

Flaming red in the face and eyes brimming with tears, I high-tailed it out of there. I spent the next 20 minutes sitting in my car crying, wondering what to do. Here I was, a bright (4.0 student in college!), educated, motivated woman with no money, no credit, no job, and soon, no place to live.

Admitting Defeat

As I contemplated the very few options left for my situation, I made the hardest financial decision I had made up until this point in my life: I called my landlord and told her that I wouldn’t be able to pay the rent next month.

Then I drove home and began packing my things because while I may not have had any money, I still had my moral compass pointing due-North. In good conscience, there was no way I could stay in a place where I wouldn’t be able to pay the rent.

If I didn’t figure the situation out soon, I would officially become homeless.

 

This post is part of my Confessions of a PF Blogger series.  Other posts include:

• Confessions of a PF Blogger:  The Series
• Confessions of a PF Blogger:  No Happy Meal for You
• Confessions of a PF Blogger:  $0.25 per Quart
• Confessions of a PF Blogger: 16 Candles
• Confessions of a PF Blogger:  $5,500 in Cash
• Confessions of a PF Blogger: A Slow Slide into Credit Card Debt Hell
• Confessions of a PF Blogger:  $1 to My Name
• Confessions of a PF Blogger:  Homeless 
• Confessions of a PF Blogger: Powerless
• Confessions of a PF Blogger: A Second Chance