On the future, miserably

Future Me is not only really put-together, organized, successful, and super hot, she’s also totally prepared for retirement. In order to facilitate Future Me’s dreams, I got right down to business and started by 401(k). (It’s embarrassing how excited I am  was about this.)

But of course, the transition from youth to young adulthood to adulthood is never as smooth as you’d like to imagine. I got my monthly financial summary for the first quarter yesterday. (I so love getting mail that’s not credit card offers! My Aunt Sally and Grandma send cards for all holidays – there’s nothing sweeter than seeing your name on an envelope and knowing that whatever’s inside is all for you! I found the cutest penguin card ever from last Christmas the other day, and grinned for a full five minutes.)

I ripped the envelope open, excited to see what my future might hold.

It holds no great promise, apparently. I’ve lost 84 cents. Again, why am I not just stuffing cash in my mattress? (This seems like a much better plan.)

And then I read this:

Projected Benefit at Retirement

Projected Monthly Income: $4.98

Based on the Ending Balance of this statement, if you retire at age 65 in the year 2053, your projected account value with be [redacted out of sheer embarrassment], and your projected monthly income will be $4.98.

….(and then it went on)

By the year 2053, I won’t be able to get on the bus for $4.98.

I do realize that this projection is based on baby contributions that have just begun. I realize that there’s more to come. I realize that this amount will grow and blossom and will probably be able to cover the holes in my monthly expenses that I can’t fill with panhandling and whatever else I’ll be doing for money in the latter half of the 21st century.

Ugh.

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