I just got the news that the U.S. Senate is going to be extending a hand to the “middleclass” by increasing the insurable amount of money we can all have in FDIC banks from $100,000 to $250,000. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been waiting for that kind of assurance before I bothered to go out and make that kind of money.

But now, baby, the sky’s the limit. I’m getting right on it. In fact, I’m getting ahead of the curve. I’ve already called my bank and told them to get ready because I’m planning on using the new limit. Yeah, I did.

“Listen,” I said to the fine young lady on the banker’s phone, “you better be keeping an eye on my balance because I’m on fire now. The barriers are down. My anxiety has been relieved. And there’s nothing stopping me.”

I could tell she was impressed – even inspired. Because she was silent, clearly thinking something along the lines of:  “This guy’s on the ball.” Yes, mam, I am. I’m an economic engine now.

But I didn’t want to rub it in. I could tell she was probably thinking negative thoughts about her husband. I’ll bet he wasn’t taking the initiative like I was. You’ve got to be sensitive to those things nowadays.

“Hello?” I called out after a few seconds. “Hello?”

“Yes, I’m here,” she responded. “Whom would like to speak to?”

Damn, I really did hurt her feelings. She was being cold now. She started with such a fine “good morning” greeting, and now my initiative had clearly demeaned her. It must have felt like she was being passed on the economic escalator – and I was the one going up. Poor woman.

“Or I could check your balance if that’s what you’re looking for,” she continued.

“Of course,” I responded, realizing she needed to regain some sense of dignity – you know, prove that she was still standing between me and my money.

I gave her my account number, verified my security code, and listened to her rythmic pecking on the keyboard in front of her.

“As of today,” she said, “your available balance is $1,753.43.”

“With the emphasis on “as of today,” I interjected. “Because I’m heading for the limit.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, as I reached for a calculator and did some quick math. “Can you verify that — if the FDIC insurance limit is raised to $250,000 — I could safely make a deposit of $248,246.57 into this account?”

“I believe that would be the case,” she responded.

“Well, that’s all I needed to know,” I said, effectively ending the conversation and this poor woman’s growing sense of jealousy.

Like I said, I’m on fire.