When I moved to California in the late Eighties, I didn’t have a bank account. I carried my money around with me, and believe me, it did not weigh me down much. I could very easily keep it all wadded up in my pocket without overloading said pocket. At first, I wasn’t making much money so I carried on with the cash system.
Until I got married a year after arriving in Los Angeles. My husband had a checking account, so I got one too. Eventually he added me to his checking account, but he got tired of that after I bounced a couple checks and I don’t blame him. I went back to working my own bank account but my exes bank which was Home Savings wouldn’t let me have an account there after my failures to keep track of money. They said I could try back in a few years. For the next few years, every time I passed the Home Savings on my way to Bank of America, I felt very sad and rejected. I knew that it was all my fault for not keeping track of what was in the account. I wanted to be good at the whole banking thing, but in fact, I didn’t spend nearly as much time thinking about money as I should have. I thought about the kids, and stories I wanted to write, and books I’d read and where I wanted to travel, I thought about lighthouses, and magic, fish and wildlife, everything except money and banking. I missed the point of finance entirely which is that you have to take a real interest in money and want to watch it pile up.
I spent considerable time wishing that I were better at banking and thinking that when I became a responsible human being, I would finally bank at Home Savings. I kicked myself.
In 1994, my husband and I split up. On Christmas Eve, 1995, in front of a judge who had Ebenezer Scrooge on the judge’s bench as a sort of odd joke, we were declared officially divorced.
In 1998, 3500 Southern Californians lost their jobs when Home Savings was bought out by Washington Mutual for 10.1 billion.
Regrets are usually not worth it. If you wait a little while, it might not matter any more.