Nickel, Dime, Die

Have you noticed how it feels like living costs extra now? Not just rent or groceries. Or gas. No, I mean, existing. Waking up. Breathing… It feels like you have to pay to walk out your front door.

Everything is locked behind a payment plan. Every app. Every lightbulb. Every goddamn thing you use comes with a monthly subscription. I don’t remember agreeing to it, but somewhere between the rise of online shopping and pretending I care about terms and conditions, we started renting our lives from companies selling us garbage. And the arbitrary prices keep going up…

Yesterday, when you bought something, it worked. Today, you have to pay to keep it working. If you cancel your subscription, they lock you out of your music, photos, passwords, and take your peace of mind with it.

They’ve figured out how to nickel-and-dime us to death, and we’ve accepted it. I’m half convinced my new toaster is going to start offering premium settings. “Cancel ads and unlock dark toast for just $12.99 a month.”

I’ve hit a wall of subscription fatigue. It’s exhausting. Every convenience costs a little more time, more thought, and a little more of us. We can’t just buy the program we need for our business anymore.

Sometimes I think about what’ll happen when I die. Not in a morbid way… Just logistically. I’ll fall over, and the lights will still be on. Everything will still be on autopay. Subscriptions will still renew. Spotify. Netflix. That bottomless pit, Adobe. And no one will notice I’m gone. My digital life will keep paying for everything I left behind until the account balance gives out.

That’s the world now. Nothing is built to last. Everything is built to bill.