Archive for money

I’m usually so organized, but I really screwed up

Posted in Family, Ranting, relationships with tags , , on October 16, 2008 by bloggingmom67

So the hubby takes me to lunch today — Indian food, my favorite. We go to pay, and our debit card gets declined. This raises an eyebrow because it’s payday, so our account should be flush. And I’m the super organized, anal retentive, neurotic type who budgets her checkbook down to the penny.

Everything we spend – a withdrawal from the ATM, a $3 latte at the grocery store, a $60 fill up of gas — gets recorded and deducted.

So I call the bank, reach a customer service rep in, you guessed it, India (my bank outsources) who is very sweet and explains I’m overdrawn $800. That’s not possible, I think.

That’s not just a mathematical error. That’s a spouse with a hidden — but sudden — gambling addiction or who just started feathering a new love nest. Or we’re get ripped off by someone who stole our bank card number.

So I rush off to visit my local branch and ask for a recent statement. Then I discover my problem — it’s me. I screwed up. Yes, me — the type-A perfect person who never screws up.

We have two checking accounts: One is for the major bills (mortgage, car payment, child care); the other is for the rest, smaller bills, everyday expenses. We do this so we always know the big bills are taken care.

What happened was this: I was out of checks for the “big bill account,” so I got a new set of checks from our box of checks and put it in my checkbook. But I mistakenly grabbed checks from the other account. So for the past two months, I’ve been writing checks, thinking they were from account A, but they were really from account B.

At first, we had enough money in account B to cover all this, so I didn’t notice. Until it got up to $4,000 in bills I had paid with account B, thinking it was A.  So we had the money, just in a different account.

Totally confused? Doesn’t matter. I figured out the mess and moved money around to make it all better. But it makes wonder: What’s the point of being a fastidious crazy, neurotic if I’m still going to screw up? 

The bright side: My hubby, the sweetheart, wasn’t fazed. “Oh, OK,” he says. Got to love that.

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