Well, it finally happened. I got a call from a bill collector this morning. I won't say I don't deserve it; my checking account is way overdrawn. But the officious, vindictive attitude of the pedantic cow who called really pushed my buttons. I mean, I've been overdrawn before...And paid for it, at $34 a pop. Considering that, generally, they assess charges on expenditures of 5 dollars or less, I would think they'd be grateful. But now I owe over $200 in bank fees alone, and they want to get all persnickety and anal retentive. Helloooo, you've always gotten your money in the past! Why would I stop paying now?
Anyway, she pretty much demanded immediate payment...I pointed out to her that if I was hoarding money in my mattress, I probably wouldn't be overdrawn in the first place. So we spent twenty minutes going back and forth. She says pay, I say I have nothing, rinse & repeat. Finally I told her that the tooth fairy was going to bring me the money, and I'd have it in the bank by her predetermined date.
It was about then that I realized that I am pretty much officially dead to myself. I kind of always knew I'd be a charity case, but it's gone too far now. Too many bad choices...If I start now, maybe I can die of cirrhosis and avoid living as a bagwoman when I'm fifty. I remember when I was a kid I was always borrowing money...I never saved, never tried to say no to myself. It's pretty much the same now, just bigger amounts. The more money you owe, the less of a person you are. Even if you owe it to people who love you so much they don't even keep track.
No comments:
Post a Comment