money woes; or "why heffie will be living with his mother for the forseeable future"

So I'm overdrawn again. Second time. Fuck me. I thought I was doing well, but damn it, I got lax and stopped following my accounts, so what happened? In between the gas prices, eating out too often, the costs of the NJ trip with Dave, the spending in Seattle, comics, and DVDs, the obvious happened. I discovered this when Dad called me up to tell me he'd gotten letters of notification from the bank. They said I was being charged about $65.00 in fees. I thought, ok, I'll be able to cover that with my $400.00 paycheck later this week, no problem. I've spent some money with the card since they send the notifications, so the charges will probably be higher. But see, last time I had overdrawn, I didn't know and I kept spending until they froze my account. At that point, I had to pay about $250.00. So this time, since even today I used my card at Subway and CVS, I figured I was still safeish.

Then I called the bank's 24-hour line and the automated teller informed me that my account was negative $600.00. Ah-guh?

Which really doesn't seem even possible. They didn't let me get even close to that far before they suspended my account the first and only time before this. And yet... yowzers. So rest assured, tomorrow I am going to talk with a real live person, try to figure this out, and maybe even throw myself on the mercy of the teller a bit.

Meantime, I shall try to turn these worries off to sleep.

(no subject)

So the overdraw fees was worse. Around $950.00 specifically.

So yeah, I've spent the vast majority of today as a sweating, quivering wreck. I hardly ate a damn thing today.

I went to the bank and threw myself on the mercy of the clerk, a cold woman who nonetheless took pity and dropped a few of the charges, subtracting $275.00 from the total. Which is a huge amount, of course, yet when weighed up against the rest doesn't seem like all that much. Dad couldn't front me the money; I guess all his boasting of riches that he used to pull on me back in the day isn't the case anymore, at least not post-eye-surgery. And Mom certainly didn't have that kind of cash; she's understanding because she's overdrawn badly in the past herself. Desperate, I called up Joel, my boss at the comic shop and asked him if he could front my next paycheck. When I told him the situation, he rightly chewed me out for fucking up majorly and then he offered to loan me the money. I have the best boss ever.

So I deposited the check, plus my paycheck, which altogether should give me enough money in the bank to have and also to cover whatever other charges should come in. I only hope to God it will all be enough come tomorrow when I check the bank and make sure it's all good. I'm also going to get a full printout of how this happened, particularly at my father's behest, who is convinced that this is somehow impossible that I should be charged this much. Maybe he doesn't understand how overdraw fees work and how they totally gouge you for your fucking up.

By three o'clock today, I felt like every last ounce of life and energy had been sapped. After I got out of work at the video store, where I was chastized for reading on the job (yet another reminder of how I was spoiled working at a comic shop), I didn't think I could feel any lower. What could I do to cheer myself up? What establishment is there for a broken down shell of a man to prop himself back up again and drown himself into his sorrows all at the same time?

( Where else??? (Apologies to Al Bundy) )