401(NOT o)K

I am stoked to retire. Who isn't, right? I was born to be old. I've always found kindred spirits in grandmas, grandpas and great-aunts. I eat prunes and oatmeal (together, even), I have my very own - at watch for - My Spin ID©. I am a member of the Wheel Watchers Club. Quick MHIBITY Trivia - I've tried out, unsuccessfully, for WOF.

But can I get an HALLELUJAH AMEN that I can't retire for another 40 years?!

What the hell, 401k? I thought we were cool? I gave you money every month and then a handful of times a year, you'd send me a statement showing me how much money you've made me and I told you how proud I am of you and how happy you make me and you blushed and then we hugged. Sometimes I'd hang on to the hug for too long and it would be awkward, but you didn't mind because we were tight.

Now, it's like you're an effing teenager! A bitchy adolescent BEGGING me for cash and when I find a little bit more in my budget to give you - you turn around a throw it all away! And when I confront you about it and I'm all like "DUDE, 401K, I know we need to make this work out between us - but it's a friggin 2 way street!" and you're all like "Pssh, Whatever. Give me money!" it really gets my goat. I've reached my breaking point. Last week, 401k, you told me that I OWE you money? Like you DESERVE it? Like you've actually contributed to this relationship and I've benefited from it in some way?

401K - are you on drugs? You must be. Because you'd have to be smoking or sniffing or injecting SOMETHING for you to think that you can get away with this.

I plan on retiring with the fattest nest egg possible and you're going to make it happen whether you like it or not. I WILL have my Craftmatic-adjustable bed, dammit and I am NOT going to let you kill that dream for me.