I miss money

Not in the abstract either.
I mean, I MISS MONEY.
Not as in 'I'm poor'.
I am.
What I mean is, I miss holding it, having it in my wallet. The PHYSICAL presence of it, the smell. The reality.
These days, money is theory, numbers in a check register, in some stupid computer in a bank.
I have a debit card, and I use it at least twice a day, and twice more than that on weekends. I have receipts stuffed into my wallet, in my purse and my husband piles them on top of the entertainment center. I found a receipt from three weeks ago, behind one of the pictures on said entertainment center, and realized I was $32 shorter than I thought. I kept thinking, had I just had cash for that transaction, it would have been over and done with three weeks ago, instead of lying in wait to mug me when my checking account was already poor as dirt.
Sigh.
But most of all -
and this is the part I hate the worst-
every once in a while, I come up severely short in my account and upon investigating, find out that my account was debited twice for the same amount on the same day at the same location. Which means, because of a computer glitch somewhere out there, some business is that much richer while I'm that much poorer.
At least until I get a printout from the bank and start calling those businesses to reverse the second transaction. But damn. I have to actually drive to my bank for this, which is about two miles away. Five years, lower gas prices, and a population explosion earlier, that wouldn't have been too bad. Now, I have to figure out just how important something is before I make that trip.
But money is important, so guess what I'll be doing at lunch tomorrow?
I miss money.