The good times never last.
I get back home from spending time with The Girl to find my house alarm going off. I don't know how long it had been going off for, only the lights were flashing, there was no no audible alarm. This has happened before a couple of times. It's very daunting when I open the front door, disable the alarm and peek around the door to see what I fear the most.
All I can tell is that it's zone 1, which is the front door. I presume it's the post that gets picked up by the sensor.
Amongst the letters were a few from my bank.
Oh joy!
It appears I am in arrears. I waved bye bye to my overdraught limit a good few days ago and have been sailing into penalty city ever since.
I hate money. I hate the fact that it's such an easy thing to worry about and yet....in all things real, it's so insignificant.
Whoever said "money is the root of all evil" was pretty close.
Oh, and my mum has to go into hospital for an operation. She's on "urgent" status....whatever that means.
It appears that it doesn't matter how great your weekend was, there's always somebody close by, who's ready to piss on your chips.
1 parlez:
I hate money, too - and isn't it weird that it's only when you are short of it that it becomes important? And I am sorry to hear your mum isn't well - how 'urgent' is 'urgent'?
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