Fiscal matters. Doesn't it?

Today's blog concerns the mystery of money. How is it that some months one is reasonably flush and can go out spending willy nilly? Other months one can't buy a pint of milk without scrabbling behind the sofa cushions. Who designs the world so that everybody's bithdays either fall in September or February? (Actually, since both my aunt and uncle were born on 30th Sept which is 9 months to the day after New Year, I think I can guess about that, but FEBRUARY??). Cards, presents and celebrations account for a large part of this enigma, but what about the general peculiarity of money? Its bizarre and narcissistic attraction to itself? It really is true that if you have money you will acquire more. Even without trying. The only times I have won (a tenner) on the lottery have been when I'm feeling flush already. If your spare(!!) cash is temporarily AWOL, the rest will surely follow. The only time my roof has started leaking, or the car needed new tres/ brakes/ whatever is when I'm completely brassick. I feel like a schizophrenic magnet - my poles keep reversing without warning or mercy. None of this is news to you, I think. However, bank managers seem to be the least sympathetic people in the world. Do they not suffer the same fate as the rest of us? Can they not see that despite my fiscal yo-yoing I ALWAYs end up ahead of the game (even if only by a penny)? They are clearly a breed apart, designed to humiliate, patronise and sneer as they reluctantly grant you an overdraft to cover your food bills for the next week. They have no such worries because they have no heart, lungs or stomach. They don't pay rent because they live under rocks. They wouldn't know how to share the joy of a birthday celebration - they were spawned in hell's womb (somewhere near Haringay). Bastards.