The Subscription Audit I Kept Avoiding
I finally audited every recurring charge on my card and found $187 a month in subscriptions, including one I forgot to cancel for almost three years.
I finally audited every recurring charge on my card and found $187 a month in subscriptions, including one I forgot to cancel for almost three years.
A weekend spent purging a decade-plus of dead cables turns into a rant about how USB-C solved the connector-shape problem and quietly created a worse, invisible one.
On the summer solstice, an afternoon outside with an ancient ThinkPad turns into a read through fifteen years of this blog's archive and a reminder that battery-life complaints never really go away.
After years of putting it off, I finally ripped Google Analytics out of this blog and switched to a lightweight self-hosted alternative — and found out how much dead weight one old script had been carrying.
A cracked old external hard drive, four hundred photos from a 2014 Portugal trip, and a slow afternoon spent finally culling it down instead of just staring at the folder names again.
A Memorial Day weekend cleanout of a drawer full of dead cables and old gadgets, and some thoughts on why so much of personal tech ends up as sentimental clutter.
I spent three hours of my Saturday fixing my parents' printer and came away convinced that printer software is the one corner of the tech industry that time has completely forgotten.
I spent a Saturday clicking every outbound link in my oldest posts and found out how much of the early-2010s internet has just quietly vanished.
I spent a few hours pruning my bloated RSS feed list and it turned into an accidental meditation on which blogs last and which ones quietly die.
Fifteen years into this blog and my entire backup strategy is still a shoebox of dying hard drives under my desk. A dispatch from three hours I will not get back.
I finally audited every subscription hitting my card and found $71 a month of stuff I forgot I was paying for, including a QR code generator app.
A Sunday-night cleanup of twenty-two hoarded domains turns into a small confession about buying domains instead of finishing projects.