piggy bank, broke, poor, money worries, IOU, anxiety

I live in my overdraft

There are some of you who will have already had your wills done, your pensions planned. Who have a handy IFA (Independent Financial Adviser), possibly called Geoff, who has helped you sort out what it all looks like and where it’s all going. You have ISAs and know what that stands for and are basically sorted. We salute you. But if this paragraph has made you as stressed reading it as it made me writing it then…

You are the fearful around money, or maybe just the bit negligent. You are the one who won’t check your bank balances (my eyes, my eyes) and then when and if you ever do will always see a minus before four numbers (not counting what’s behind the decimal point). I just checked my bank balance to remind myself what that little minus looked like – and it looks like this: -£1523.45.

But I am OK with that. I am OK with the overdraft. That’s where I live. In the negative. In the minus. In the extra. Does it matter? Isn’t that what it is for?

Don’t get me wrong, I work my arse off, I am not spending my overdraft on macaroons and miniature pigs, I don’t think this is free money. It’s just I don’t sweat about my overdraft because it is part of an eco-system, a cycle: money goes in, and money goes out. There are no forms involved or people to deal with. I have a limit. I respect the limit. For me it is OK that there is negative money in my bank account and to not let that disturb sleep or disrupt my relationships.

The overdraft isn’t going anywhere. So I’ve decided to neutralise its power. I pick my battles. And this is one I won’t win for a while. So I choose to stick my fingers in my ears and panic about being a bad mother instead.

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