Bad spending

Had me a little delivery waiting on the mat when I got home last night: a statement from Barclays Bank. Now, my rule of thumb is never, ever to look at my bank balance. Why would I want to put myself through the pain? But pay day is still three days away and I wanted to know whether I had any funds available.

I put off opening it for as long as I could. I washed some clothes; I made a couple of overdue phone calls; I even ventured into the lounge to talk to Ole Misery Guts. By about 9pm I couldn't put the inevitable off any longer and so I retired to my boudoir to open up the terror package.

I knew before I looked at it that I'd spent quite a lot this month - suits, Clinique skin care items and trips to the cinema don't pay for themselves - but I hadn't realised how much I'd spent. The total monthly outgoings were roughly £300 more than the incomings. That in itself might be construed as a problem, but this month was the first month in three years where I didn't have to pay off my car loan, which used to be about £350 a month. So having spent that instead of saving it, I'd actually blown at least £650 that I could've used to save for my own place.

It's fine, I told myself. I'll budget like crazy this week. There'll be homemade sandwiches every day in place of the daily visit to Pret. I can cope with that. And when my salary pops into my bank on Friday (and Mr Barclay breathes a sigh of relief), I can spend wisely and get all the Christmas presents I need to get while I have the money.

Thing is, the discovery of yet another month's overspend is rather depressing and I won't stop thinking about it until Friday. And I know what's going to make it all go away: some new Dunlops. And another bottle of Hermes aftershave. And Jamiroquai's greatest hits. And something luxurious from the Hotel Chocolat...

...Oh wait, this is where the problem lies, isn't it?