A great morning at my apartment at the Watergate until I got a call from my bank. I was basking in the glow of doing a truly wonderful event for the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia last night. We had a superb attendance, kind sponsors, a glorious attentive organizing team, and it all was the way life is supposed to be.
Just before I went to bed last night I imagined that I would get a really bad call from my bank and it sent me into a panic. But I was able to sleep anyway. And, as I puttered around this morning making breakfast, I felt happy.
Then I saw the call from my bank. Yuck. A really big overdraft, caused by my own stupidity and carelessness. Luckily, I could easily cover it, but I hated, hated, hated it. Overdrafts make me crazy. You would think that would make me more careful about keeping my accounts straight. It doesn’t. It’s really embarrassing how careless I am about my accounts.