bank the monkey

working at the bank is a daily reminder of exactly how poor i am. if i were a more optimistic, happy-go-lucky girl, i would look instead at all of the accounts that are constantly overdrawn due to thousands of dollars in checks written on a weekly basis to the grand victoria casino in elgin; instead, i write those account holders off as utter morons and concentrate on the customers who woefully complain that they have so much money that they have to keep their cash at numerous banks due to fdic insurance reasons. oh, how terrible that must be.

before i got this job, i didn't think too much about money. i maxed out credit cards, did balance transfers to juggle my debt around, and then started on new cards. i never looked at my bank account and just automatically assumed i was doing okay. this automatic assumption would be followed by a celebratory round of eight dollar martinis. now, i look at every penny and ask myself, "how could i be saving more?" i follow the rise and fall of interest rates, can quote the local cd rates of every bank within a twenty mile radius down to a hundredth of a percent, and use savings calculators to figure out how long it will be until i'm a millionaire. current estimate: 98 years. at that point, a million dollars will be today's equivilant of 6 dollars and some gum, so i must remind myself to adjust for inflation.

anyhow, with the wedding coming up, i'll be spending like cash is going out of style. that will put this particular banker in a somewhat sour mood. however, i must also applaud myself for becoming more money savvy these last few months: i haven't used a single credit card since january, i've been making huge payments to the folks at visa and mastercard, and still, i've managed to save money by making wiser spending and saving choices. and that, my friends, calls for an eight dollar martini.