Why I'm destined for a life of poverty

For Christmas, some of my relatives gave me money instead of a present, because I've told everyone I know how desperately poor I am and how I've only enough money to eat extra value pasta and free samples from the cheese counter (if you donate just £2 a week...). Some of them gave me the money in cheque form. Unfortunately, cheques require going to the bank. This is where my problems started.

It began well. I looked up my nearest branch on the internet, and I set off with the cheques. When I got to the bank, I was a bit confused. Unlike a normal branch with the cash desks where you get to speak to a human being, there was one desk and lots of computers. After standing in two different queues for different types of computers, I finally found the queue for the podiums for paying in cheques. The large 'pay in cheques' sign on the wall above them was a bit of a give away, even if it took me ten minutes to notice it.

But things got worse. The instructions on the screen were rather vague.

I knew I needed to fill in one of those paying in slips. But in the process of trying to follow the instructions on the screen and the thought 'I need to fill in a paying in slip', I ended up putting my cheques and a blank paying in slip into the machine. Obviously, somewhere in my mind, the thought, 'I need to fill in a paying in slip' morphed into 'I've filled in a paying in slip'.*

I had to go to the one desk and queue for ages, just to say to some poor lady, "I'm a complete moron." When I explained my predicament she looked at me as if I was insane (what could have ever led her to think that?) but that if she didn't remain calm, I would visciously attack her with my bare hands.

However, after some computer wizardry, she said that she'd sorted the problem. All's well that ends well. Unless the cheques bounce.

*The technical term for making up memories is confabulation. However, in this case, stupidity is a better explanation.