Tuesday, 25 November 2008
Just at the time when the banks are desperate to ensure what little money I have stays in their possession, I seem to have ended up with two cash-cards - both unexpired - for the same account. One works, and one doesn’t (and that’s probably the reason I was sent the second, but I’ve long forgotten about it). I can never remember which one’s which and I can’t risk cutting up the valid one, so sometimes I stand cursing at the cash-point as the card comes back without the cash or – worse – at the supermarket checkout looking flummoxed while the girl announces that my card has been refused. Since quitting ‘work’ (ha – I’ve never worked so hard in my life!) we’ve gently suggested to Sally that there might be a little less money than there used to be (and even less than that, thanks to the collapse of global capitalism). So it was hardly surprising (but deeply embarrassing) the other day to hear her tutting at the checkout as my card was declined again - ‘We’ve run out of money, haven’t we Daddy?’ Shall we cancel Christmas now?