When Phoebe discovered her sister and her family moving into her house without her permission, she felt her day would never get any worse. However, just as all hope appeared to be gone, a surprise knock at the door initiated a delectable portion of instant karma. Growing up, my sister and I were always close, but after she got married, things changed. What transpired between us a few days ago was something I’ll never forget. My name is Phoebe, and I live in a little three-bedroom home. It is nothing special, yet I feel incredibly proud that it is mine.
I have been working day and night to make those mortgage payments for the past ten years, paying it off. I admit that there are moments when I wish I could live in one of my friends’ opulent downtown apartments, but then I realize that this home is mine. No housemates dropping filthy dishes in the sink, no landlord breathing down my neck. Me alone in my space. She is 38 years old, a mother of two, and wed to Nicholas, her high school love. When we were younger, we used to be close, but after she got married, things changed. I never held it against her when she began to concentrate more on her new life.
I think she acted in her own best interests. Nicholas and Holly have always been the adventurous kinds. They belong to the group of people who always talk about “live life to the fullest” and “leave the rat race.”
When we would gather together for family dinners, it used to irritate me. Holly used to drink her wine and tell Phoebe, “Life’s too short to be confined in a cubicle.” “You ought to take more trips and experience the world!” Indeed, it seems that recollections do not cover the expenses, friend. I made an effort to advise them to handle their money more wisely. Even with two small children to consider, they were continually hopping on last-minute trips or purchasing the newest technology.
Did they, however, pay attention? Nope In fact, they accomplished it a few months ago. They thought they would utilize the money they made from selling their property during the real estate boom to “travel the world” for a year. “What?” With my coffee, I almost choked. “Are you serious, Holly? And the children’s school? Your occupations?” Yes, we will homeschool them while traveling. It will be a lesson unto itself! Later on, we can always get another job. This is our opportunity to truly live!”
I attempted to reason with her. I was somewhat concerned. “Holly, are you sure you have considered this? It costs a lot to travel, especially when you have kids. “What occurs if the funds run out?” “Phoebe, stop being such a worrywart,” she remarked, dismissing the worries. “We have everything worked out. We will volunteer for room and board while staying in hostels. Everything will work out.” The final image I viewed was them camping in a field and had a blurry caption that read, “loving the simple life.”