Introspection - don't let it happen to you.

I'm a bad blogger. I think about it far more often than I actually DO it.*

Why haven't I blogged? Work blah blah blah no time blah blah bed early blah blah.

SO, it seems that some little girl has decided to STEAL my check book. To this date Miss Thinks She's Clever has written $450 of MY money to...herself. I am really going to enjoy busting her. I know her name.

In years past, this wouldn't be as frightening to me as it now. The difference now, is that there is no possible way I can spare $450. Today, $40 is a lot of money. $40 dollars means two weeks of freedom to buy lunch out of the machine at work. $40 means at LEAST two meals out to eat for me and My Girl so she won't have to cook every night of the month.

But My Girl's a great cook. She makes me food with things in it that I KNOW I don't like and she makes me like it. Examples - Spinach, cranberries and squash. I love the way she makes food.

$450 - well now, that's bill paying money. Missing that kind of money makes me think about what bills I'm not going to pay this month. Missing that kind of money makes me think, again, about how embarrassing it's going to be to have to call up a business and tell them (again) that I won't be sending them money for their service in full. Will they accept a partial payment and I'll get the rest to them next month...we both know I'm lying but it sounds better. Right? I'll try to pay them everything next month but I won't have the money really until two months go by.

People who I've had to do this or variants of this: Electric, Heating, Home Association, Water, Trash, Credit, Clothing Store, Hardware Store.

I've never missed a mortgage payment. I've had to ask for money to be able to say that.

What grinds my gears is that the little bitch has no idea, and if I'm honest with myself, couldn't care less that she has sent me into a mental downhill slide of sorts. I'm not breaking down and crying at work, or sniffling into my cherrio's, or even thinking about it every minute. The bank has told me that because I reported it and filled out an hour's worth of paperwork that I'll eventually get my money back. But, that won't help pay the late fee's, will it?

What gets me is that at 39 years old, a little more tarnish has been added to an increasingly cynical mind. This young thing (people over 30 don't write like that, they've had to sign their names on big ticket items and that gets rid of a lot of swirls) views my checkbook as a free lunch. She doesn't care about me, My Girl or anyone else. She doesn't care about anyone but herself that is.

I can take the apologies to these businesses, I've had to do it before and now I know that, I'll definantly have to do it again. It's just that I'm just having trouble wrapping my mind around the idea of having so little concern for another human being. I keep coming back to something my father said "Do you think I'm made of money??".

As I write this, I know it sounds obtuse, but dammit! I never thought it would happen to me! I thought about it happening to me and I thought that I had taken sensible precautions about it happening to me. But thinking about it is SO different from it actually happening to me.

*Seems to me that this thought can be used for many different things in my life. Hmmm.