“You have insufficient funds in your account”
Not the blog I was expecting to write today. In times past I have suffered the same display message as above and crumbled like a character in sci-fi kneeling at the feet of a robotic overload. Now I reacted with the heavy sigh/simple nodding combination popular amongst reality-television stars fired or danced off or eliminated or however disposed.
The truth, then. From today, 11 October, to pay day on Friday, 30 October, the total amount of income available to me is £6. Six. I will spell it like the BBC “Final Score” vidiprinter. Although I will be checking my bank statement when it arrives, the financial final score is highly unlikely to be the result of identity theft (although I will hold out a little hope for this.)
In times past my reaction has been over-theatrical, almost hysterical. I have run to my savings accounts to keep me in milkshakes and bus-fares. This weekend has been completely different. Through my own actions I have suffered a rather unfortunate and difficult penalty.
Each wave of consequence to this hit me like being at Victory Park watching goals go in at the wrong end. Not being able to visit the (usually belting) Continental beer festival, not being able to replace my broken digital camera, and perhaps with a bit more vital importance about it, not being able to guarantee eating something every day for 21 days.
The change in my reaction is one-bit maturity, one-bit pride, a lot of helping of lack of alternatives. So walking to and from work every day – 2hrs each – should be a pain in the lower legs while doing a little better work on the beer belly. And I will not fall into the trap of starving myself for the sake of it: even with something around 20p per day (technically) I will find ways to keep hunger at bay….
I cannot feel sorry for myself too much. Okay so maybe the water rates should not have been paid in one chunk; maybe I should found alternative (cheaper!) means to travel to Horden, maybe the white-with-tartan hoodie was a purchase too far. The consequences will flicker on until payday; my luck is having a moment of relative “poverty” – and I really do use that for want of a better word – which is temporary. Unlike so many in society my lack of cash is not permanent. There are lessons to be learned – and indeed, yes, having been here before, those lessons should have already been revised somewhat! – starting with a lot of chores to be carried out with no connection to saving spends.
So this is the truth, then. Six pounds to last three weeks. A consequence of personal financial cock-hoopery. Here’s to payday, when I think (even with all things considered) I deserve spending quite a bit on celebrating.
What?…..Oh wait, I see…..