Poor and hating it

So, apparently not understanding the credit crunch is not a way of avoiding it. I mean, I did try, I even listened to the finance guy on the news a couple of times. He has a nice accent. And I think he was speaking English. But I still don't get it.

Isn't it monstrously unfair that they make it compulsory for us all to be involved in stuff we'll never get our heads round? Pensions. Mortgages. Taxes. Insurance. Does anyone understand these things? I mean really understand them, rather than just signing up with whatever bank/policy/account your dad tells you to?

Would you sign up to a university course your dad told you to? No, because then everyone in the world would be doing medicine or accounts because "they're proper jobs", and your dad's insider info on the employment market is 30 years out of date. You wouldn't wear a top your dad suggested, but you have exactly the same current account as him. Never mind that he has that current account specifically because it's the one you get extra interest for if you keep 10,000 squids in at all times, but you get punished mercilessly for being overdrawn.

And you're constantly overdrawn.

Your dad doesn't know that, because you'd rather pay the enormous overdraft charges than get a lecture about the value of money, and you still don't know how to change accounts because you've had that one since primary school and no one ever explained it to you.

And that's what really drives me nuts. You have to have a pension and you have to get a mortgage and you have to pay tax and you have to have insurance but where is the leaflet entitled, 'So you failed maths but you don't want to live on catfood in your old age...'?

I don't think you should be penalised for not being physically able to stay awake all the way through 'Working Lunch' on TV but that's what's happening. It's only the uber-boring people who have ISAs and stakeholder pensions and tax loopholes and investments and stocks and shares. Because they get it.

I don't get it. And I don't get the credit crunch. But I'm still sitting in my living room wearing a scarf because oil is currently 400 squids for 900 litres and I'm trying to make my half tank last...well, forever would be nice. I also have a hacking death-rattle of a cough. It's all very Dickensian.

In high school we had a class called 'Life Skills'. Sounds like the obvious place to learn about this kind of thing doesn't it? Or maybe about completely different, though necessary, life lessons. Succeeding at relationships. Jobs interviews. How to make friends and influence people. Parenting skills. Even interior décor would have come in handy, (paint the ceilings first, dammit).

But our 'Life Skills' tutor was also the music teacher. So we learned to play the recorder. I'm not blaming him. It was fun and I can still play 'Amazing Grace' note perfect. I'm sure he'd have liked to equip us for the real world. I'm sure he'd have loved to teach us how to be millionaires before we were 30. The thing was, he didn't understand this stuff either. That's why, at 56 years of age, he was still teaching 12 year olds to play 'Hot Cross Buns' on a variety of tuneless percussion instruments.

Well, I'm off to put on another pair of socks and have 'Credit-Crunchy Nut Cornflakes' for lunch (it's a kind of cheap cereal made out of grated bankers).