Trying to keep it all in perspective

It has been a challenging year, and recently I have encountered more than the usual level of incompetence.  And it is a stressful time, a major project that I work on all year, is reaching it's conclusion next week - a year's work resting on the shoulders of people who don't live up to my standards of getting it right and on time.  

I have been dealing with bankers and stock brokers - a lot - on changing some personal accounts and on Dad's estate.  Financial institutions have to deal with crooks, so they now treat everyone like a criminal.  They say it is for "your protection" but it is really the bank trying to protect themselves from the the 1 in a 1000 people who are trying to cheat.  So they treat everyone like a cheat.  Case in point, I went online to order checks for one of the estate accounts, I notice that the mailing address was incorrect on that account (one of three linked accounts with the same institution - it was the only one with the street name spelled incorrectly.)  So I corrected the address before ordering checks.  I get an error message that I need to call customer service on the check order.  I call, and I am told that they can't print checks for 30 days because of a recently changed the address on the account - I explain that I corrected the address, look at the two linked accounts - look at what the street address was before and what it is now - I fixed the institutions data entry error.  Sorry - that is the rule "for your protection."  I was less than kind for moment.  She then explained the back-door bypass around the policy - the checks will be here next week. Some days it would be easier to ignore all the rules and look for all of the bypass back door work arounds. 

When things go like this, I get frustrated, then angry, than grumpy. 

I have to stop and put it all in perspective. 

It is only money.
It is only work.
It is only time. 
It is only silly rules. 
It is seldom personal - they are not doing this to frustrate me. 
Nothing tried to hunt me down and eat me.  
My head didn't explode. 
I didn't hurt anyone.
I didn't make anyone cry (this time.)
The next time - I will know how to find the back-door. 
Ten years from now I won't remember most of this.  
On my death bed none of this will matter.  

Is it idiot season, or is it just me?