Financial irregularities
All of my financial details - my credit card numbers, back account numbers and sort codes, passport and driving licence numbers - and all the questions necessary to use them, including my name, address, and the answer to the ubiquitous ‘mothers maiden name’ question and in an easily identified envelope in a post box that is not emptied on Sundays somewhere in the Chelmsford area. They’ll stay there until first collection Monday, unless someone reverses into it or it blows down in the wind again like it did last time we had a storm.
You see, I fell for the scare stories about having all your cards registered so if you lose them, or your wallet is stolen, you just ring one number and they’re all cancelled right away, and it only struck me how stupid the whole thing was when I was filling out the registration papers. Anyone who sees the envelope will know exactly what’s inside, so I’m putting my faith, and my financial wellbeing in the hands of the postman - and countless other postmen and women - not to peep inside and go wild in the (vitrual) aisles online.
That was the pinnacle of a day of finances. Registered myself for an online tax return (far more involved than last year), closed another bank account, took great delight in cutting up my Barclaycard now I’ve switched to a more attractive brand of credit. Sellotaped the little bits together so there wouldn’t be any nasty sharp edges and dropped them into an envelope addressed to Northampton.
Took panettone around to mum’s for tea. While there discovered that Christmas is only a week and a half away.
Must buy cards.
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