Pay day

Pay day has arrived. I sit up in bed and punch the air with my fist. At long last, money in my account.

I've been wanting a grey trench coat ever since I saw the sister of a murderer wearing one in the French film I've Loved You For So Long. I make an early morning decision to bypass second-hand rails, closing-down sales and bargain bins and treat myself in a proper shop.

I get out of bed to make a coffee. While I'm putting on the kettle I do some calculations: rent, bills, £110 tube, laptop payment, girl essentials, gluten-free food, payment for Italy holiday for a wedding... Before I have lifted the coffee cup to my lips I am already £400 overdrawn. My pay day euphoria has lasted roughly five minutes. The grey trench coat has been ripped from my shoulders. Again.

My morning coffee tastes more bitter than usual.