Check box

When I was in UNC, I opened a bank account with a local bank. I won’t mention which one. As they kind of fleeced of me. I opened a savings account for example. Which I had no need for. It was my fault, for simply picking the first place that was open. I had been very careless with my money. I spent to much and left my money lying around in plain view.

They sent the checks to the wrong place. I wrote bad ones. I was chased by a credit agency over this. I wonder if I am still black listed somewhere in the USA over this. I was even a little concerned about returning to NC. Wondering if my creditors should be awaiting for me.

Anyway, they sent me a lot of checks. In this little box, and I have kept the box. It was full of stuff from my past. The mission cards from my old risk set. The business card of a Mr Harvey who was my contact at the employment agency I worked for just after I left college

There are the tags, of two jerseys. The New York Yankee’s top I got my from my older sister. A soccer shirt.  The registration card from my old scanner. The instructions for the worry balls, I got from the princess of Reno.

There was a bag with a few dollars in change too. A bank slip from 2003. A little dividend, after all. A little repository of my life.