The Later Man: Financial Neglect is Never Harmless

Procrastination Humor | Personal Growth | QuickBooks Cleanup

Procrastination sneaks up on us, turning small tasks into overwhelming problems. Meet Norman Plumb, a man juggling a neglected QuickBooks account and an unexplained lump, as he learns the hard way that “later” is not always an option. Through humor and reflection, this story highlights the importance of timely action in both finances and life.

A Tale from the Balance Keeper’s Book of Accounts

Norman Plumb sat at his desk, tapping away at the keyboard with a rhythm suggesting intense focus. In truth, he was filling out an online quiz titled “Which Historical Dictator Are You?”—a vital step in his never-ending quest for self-understanding. As he pondered whether he was more Napoleon or Caesar, his phone buzzed on his desk, displaying a message that required immediate attention.

TAX DEADLINE IN 3 DAYS

Norman glanced at the notification and tapped it away, feeling a wave of relief as it disappeared from his phone's screen. Later, he thought. I’ll handle it later. Three days was practically forever. Besides, there was a much more pressing issue at hand: his cup of tea had gone cold.

As he stood to fetch a fresh cup, a vague discomfort tugged at his neck. Absentmindedly, his hand wandered to the lump that had appeared a month ago. Nestled just below his jawline, it had grown to the size of a walnut. At first, he’d shrugged it off, rationalizing that bodily anomalies weren't worth the hassle. His uncle Albert had once told him, “Lumps are nature’s way of saying you’re winning at evolution.” If that wasn't solid advice, Norman didn’t know what was.

Besides, he was far too busy for medical nonsense. Later, he thought, I’ll get it checked later.

The Avalanche Grows

Three days later—amid thousands of ignored emails—Norman’s desk, once the model of organized chaos, resembled a paper explosion. Receipts mingled with credit card bills. Bank statements lay buried beneath a thick layer of snack wrappers, hoping to become invisible to the tax authorities. Despite having QuickBooks glowing on his computer screen—a modern lifeline for his financial mayhem—Norman clung to his outdated habits of a physical ledger and piles of receipts, a chaotic inheritance from his father.

Norman knew this mess required attention. He really did. But there were other things demanding his time. There was the matter of reorganizing his collection of novelty teacups, googling how to best train a cactus (because that’s a thing, apparently), and of course, the lump.

Ah, yes. The lump.

Norman stood in his bathroom, staring into the mirror with a mix of apprehension and denial. If he tilted his head just right, he could almost convince himself it wasn’t there at all. Sure, it had grown a bit, but that was probably a good sign. Maybe he was adapting to it. It’s probably just a lymph node... or stress. Stress causes lumps, doesn’t it?

It was in the midst of this procrastination-fueled rationalization that he heard it: a distinct rustling sound. Papers shuffled of their own accord.

Norman froze, and listened. The noise was faint but unmistakable—the soft, deliberate turning of pages.

The Balance Keeper

Slowly, Norman carefully walked down the hall, and peered into the dimly lit corners of his office. The faint glow from his neglected QuickBooks app shone accusingly from its screen. And there, at his desk, sat a figure cloaked in shadows, flipping through his ledger with calm efficiency.

Norman blinked. This was... something new.

“Who… who are you?” he stammered. The figure’s presence was unsettling, though not threatening. It felt more like the inevitability of a tax audit—quiet, methodical, inescapable.

“I am the Balance Keeper,” came the reply, the voice dry and patient, as though explaining something for the millionth time. “And it appears we have much to discuss.”

Garden of Neglect

The Keeper motioned for Norman to sit, and though he hesitated, he soon found himself seated across from the figure. Tall and angular, their features were mostly obscured by the dim light, but their voice carried the weight of rustling parchment—aged, yet not unkind. As they flipped through the pages of Norman’s financial disarray, the Keeper made tut-tuts and huffs of disapproval, much like someone discovering a long-forgotten sandwich in a desk drawer.

“Let me guess,” the Keeper said, not looking up, “you were going to handle this... later?”

Norman nodded sheepishly. “Well, you know how it is. There’s always something more important. Like, um…” He gestured vaguely at his freshly-made cup of tea, “hydration.”

The Keeper raised a brow, unimpressed. “And the lump on your neck?”

Norman stiffened. “Ah. That. Yes, well, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

The Keeper’s gaze narrowed. “Of course. Nothing. Just like how your income and expenses resulting in a negative balance is also ‘nothing,’ I suppose?”

Norman squirmed. “I was… getting to that.”

The Keeper sighed, a sound like a ledger closing on a long-overdue account. “Norman Plumb, you are what I call a ‘Later Man.’ Do you know the type?”

Norman hesitated, sensing a trap. “I… might have some idea.”

“Later Men are the ones who say, ‘I’ll fix it tomorrow,’ or ‘I’ll deal with it next week,’ or my personal favorite, ‘It’s probably fine.’” The Keeper’s voice grew more pointed, though still laced with dry humor. “The world is full of Later Men, Norman. Do you know where they end up?”

“Um…”

The Keeper’s eyes gleamed. “In a mess.”

A New Beginning or Another Delay?

The next few hours were a blur of numbers, balances, and stern reminders. As the Keeper untangled Norman’s accounts, it was like watching a skilled gardener prune a wildly overgrown hedge.

“You see, Norman,” the Keeper explained while adjusting an entry from ‘Miscellaneous’ to its proper category, “your accounts are like a garden. Left unattended, they grow wild. Neglect them long enough, and they will strangle themselves.”

Norman nodded, though his attention had drifted. His hand was once again absentmindedly rubbing the lump on his neck.

“You should see a doctor about that,” the Keeper said, not looking up from the ledger.

“It’s probably fine,” Norman muttered.

Right. Just like that ‘miscellaneous’ charge you made two months ago was definitely a ‘necessary’ business expense, wasn’t it?

Norman flinched. “Okay, I see your point.”

The Keeper closed the ledger, satisfied. “Norman, consider this your first warning. Both in health and finances, neglect will come back to bite you. You can ignore the lump, or your taxes, but they will not ignore you.”

Norman sighed. “So, what do I do now?”

“Go to the doctor,” the Keeper said, rising to leave, “and reconcile your QuickBooks every month. Not once a year.”

Norman blinked. “That’s it?”

The Keeper gave him a small, dry smile. “Oh, it’s never just it. But start there. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

With that, the Keeper disappeared, leaving behind the faint scent of old books and a perfectly balanced ledger.

The Lump and the Future

Weeks later, Norman sat in a doctor’s office, flipping through an outdated magazine while waiting for his test results. His phone chimed—a notification from his QuickBooks app, confirming yet another clean reconciliation. He smiled to himself. He was getting better at this “handling things” business.

The doctor stepped into the room, clipboard in hand.

“Well, Norman,” she said, “it’s a good thing you came in when you did.”

Norman swallowed, his mind drifting back to the Keeper’s words.

Later Men end up in a mess.

But today, Norman smiled. He felt a little less like one of them.

The Keeper’s Closing Thoughts

The Balance Keeper closed their Book of Accounts with a resounding snap, sending dust swirling into the dim light. “Balance, Norman,” the Keeper mused, speaking to the memory of the man. “Isn’t found by sidestepping discomfort or delaying what must be faced—it’s earned through steady, honest reckoning.”

A faint smile touched the Keeper’s lips as they tucked the Book of Accounts back into its place. “Remember this, Norman,” they whispered to the shadows of memory, “small neglects become heavy burdens with time. But each step toward confronting them tips the scales back—if only by a little.”

The End

Like?? | Repost ?? | Subscribe to our newsletter: The Story Bookkeeper

About the Creator

Matthew Hawn is a storyteller of balance, a keeper of financial order who walks the line between chaos and clarity. For him, bookkeeping isn't just numbers—it’s the story of every forgotten entry and every unbalanced sheet, ready to be made right again.

About the Series: The Balance Keeper’s Chronicles

Each story—whether a humorous foray into prehistoric inventory with a caveman, a cosmic struggle aboard an intergalactic starship, or the quiet unraveling of neglected accounts—captures a unique struggle against imbalance. Guided by the steadfast Balance Keeper, characters must confront their own procrastination, tangled books, and life's unruly details.