Money Troubles

Once when I was fourteen, old enough to know better, young enough to play dumb, I bought a pen and told my mum it cost more than it did. Pretty stupid I know. The fib gained me two extra pounds that I blew on coke, or crisps, or something equally empty. As it turned out, my joy was short lived; an hour later she found the receipt in the bin and confronted me. Boy, that money was small change compared to what I lost, the deep, hot humiliation at being caught in a barefaced lie, made all the worse as she told me I could have kept the change anyway. Swallow me up, I prayed to the ground. At 11.30am today I had a meeting with the bank. At 11.46am they rang me to ask where I was. I'm terrible with money. Currently I'm bouncing my cash around like a bunny on burning coals, from credit cards to debit cards, overdrafts to savings accounts. I'm terrified of being found out. So you know what I did? I pretended the meeting was next week. I could have just said I'd rather not make it, but no, I didn't want to lose face. So I lied. The guy on the phone apologised for the mistake, said he'd have a word with whoever arranged the meeting. I said it was probably my fault, maybe I got it wrong, but when I put down the phone I felt pretty bad. Money and I don't mix, when it floods in I drown, when it's absent I starve, I've got seven days until that meeting now and already I've got that sinking feeling.