International finance, innit
I received an epistle from my bank saying the following things:
Dear Ms Ysengrin,
Thank you for your recent enquiry about working or living abroad. We are pleased to enclose the information you requested. You can also obtain further information by visiting www.bastardsbanklimited.co.uk or by contacting your personal adviser. Yours sincerely, etc.
Ah.
Well.
Explanation number one: someone is trying to get rid of me by hinting that I should take up offshore banking; that might be a polite way to tell me to bugger off and leave the country.
Explanation number two: I have been sleep-walking all those years and no-one bothered to tell me that I was calling up financial services and requesting meaty leaflets on international services.
Explanation number three: this is the hand of fate! Fate is telling me to leave the country! and to not close down that bank account!
Explanation number four: I have no explanation number four which would satisfactorily cater for my romantic side, since I won’t simply chalk it up to a mistake on my lovely financial adviser.
Now that my doubts on my partner’s ability to help me through a transatlantic move have vanished along with the partner, I might well consider a move after all. I am considering it right now. I’m giving myself a deadline of August 2005. There. And it’s got nought to do with Bastardsbank unlimited.