If things happen to you that shouldn’t be happening to you, do you think you are cursed or do you look for someone to blame you can’t see looking back from the mirror? Yeah, me too.
This has been the week for blaming, and this time it’s not my fault.
Last week someone broke into my office. Of all the windows they could have broken through at that building, they chose mine. Of all the cabinets inside the building there was one that was locked. It was located in my office. It contained all the blank check stock. They pried it open. Don’t worry. They didn’t take anything – that we know of. The culprit remains unknown and unnamed.
Yesterday, or perhaps late Sunday night it was the rear window of my car that became the victim. The car was parked in my yard. Rear window toward the house. Very close to the house. When I got in the car at 4:30 yesterday morning and shut the door, crash. The window collapsed, a victim of previous victimization. The culprit remains unknown and unnamed.
Today it was my bank account. I stopped by the bank to withdraw some money as my wallet is empty. I put in my card. I entered my pin. I requested $60 and a receipt. What I got was a display saying my account didn’t have $60. My receipt said I had nothing. I’m broke.
I shook my head and hurried to the office to find out what I had been purchasing that I hadn’t been purchasing.
I was sure some unknown unnamed culprit had stolen my debit card, my bank info, my identity, though I don’t know why.
I logged on and saw a zero balance.
As I scrolled through the transactions trying to find a trip to Europe, a diamond ring, a huge cash withdrawal, I saw other things instead. Things like book purchases from Amazon, insurance payments, authorized automatic withdrawals. Everything looked legit, dammit.
Then I looked closer and noticed something strange.
There were lots of numbers in the debit column (money coming out), but nothing in the credit column (money going in). Now, I never put money in the bank. That’s done automatically for me. Once a week the payroll company deposits money into my account in payment for my work at my employer’s office. They have been putting money in the same account at the same bank for 12 years now – until now.
As I scanned the account I noticed that there was not a deposit for last week.
I remember working last week. Actually, I’m quite sure I worked last week.
I do the payroll at my job and I am quite certain I had hours submitted for pay.
I went to the company Christmas party last Saturday and received a nice Christmas card and a nice Christmas bonus inside.
I did not however receive money in the bank for my work last week.
Is it possible that I am my own culprit?
Did I perhaps break in to my own office using another person’s fingerprints?
Did I break the glass on the back of my vehicle? On purpose? Or did I forget that too?
I followed the trail a little farther and found, according to all the reports from the payroll company that, according to them, I was indeed paid for last week.
So where the hell is my money?
According to other reports it appears that the people in charge at the payroll company sent a real check to me instead of depositing money in to my bank account as they have done for the past 12 years. They sent me, in their words, “a live check.”
I’ve been known to kill trees and they think I can be trusted with a check I didn’t know I was getting. Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I still have a check in my purse that I received 2 months ago for the sale of a book.
Do you know what I have been doing with those worthless paper checks I’ve received for the past 12 years? Yup.
I never open them, because they are worthless.
I never keep them because they are worthless.
I fold them up, stick them somewhere, and never think about them again.
When the payroll company opens I think I’ll send them a copy of this recap of my week, along with the overdraft charges from the bank, the bill for the broken windows at the office and in my car, and the bill from my doctor who I will be seeing for the high blood pressure.
Well, they do know where I work, and where I live, and even my bank information.
From the life and mind of Wanda M. Argersinger
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