I am developing a phobia in regards to money. Finances. In the past I have been almost anal, okay really anal, about paying bills on time, balancing my checkbook, and keeping important tax relevant documents together.

Bills are still being paid. I balance my checkbook when I have to be paying bills. I have the feeling that some of the papers I need to give Fran, my poor tax preparer, are buried in the spare bedroom…somewhere…I think.

How did this happen to me? Especially now that I am probably within 6 to 7 months of getting everything straightened out to the point where life does not get scary every so often in regards to money. And why am I thinking about this tonight? Because I forgot to order checks a couple of weeks ago, and now there are bills to pay and I have no checks.

I was pretty near tears about it last night. In addition to the visitation and my dad’s illness, I had visions of bill collectors and my poor child having to live off of cold cereal and Campbell’s soup. Ridiculous nonsense. My surgery and an unexpected car repair bill have thrown my strategic plans a bit but it will all right itself by summer provided I stay away from the mall.

Even if I don’t, we are still fine. It’s the other shoe. That feeling that something worse than what has already happened is going to. It takes a minor incident, like forgetting to order checks, and suddenly you are sure that foreclosure is looming. Even knowing that you are fine, that this is something akin to a panic attack, doesn’t placate the feeling of terror. It’s terror. Monstrouos looming fear. That, idiot that I am, I feed with stupid behaviors like not balancing my checkbook and forgetting to write the due date on the envelopes of bill (or worse, not putting the bills in the proper letter holder and accidently throwing them away!) When am I going to be a grown-up again? What….that’s an entry for another day.