Yeah, yeah, I know: I’ve been quite scarce around here lately.  Since I put up my new template I haven’t really blogged since then.  I lead a boring life, what can I say?  Although, it may get mighty interesting come the next few weeks, now that I’ve settled in…

“You be brushing zee kitties?”  My vet says.  I hold up a box with Sara in it, vocalizing her thoughts of being shoved into a box after I woke her up.  You would probably be meowing like someone is tearing your limbs off, too, if you were sleeping that soundly on a comfy bed just moments ago.

“Yes,”  I practically have to yell over the loud meowing noise.

“What be zee problem?”  The vet talks easily over my cats piercing meows as if he does this a thousand times a day.  I can’t place his accent, sounds kind of German and Indian mixed.  He doesn’t have air conditioning in his tiny, two-room office, but who cares, he hasn’t killed my pets yet and, the prices are average.

I explain my problem to the vet, and he nods.

“I see,”  He says, carefully opening the box and lifting Sara out of it.  Her discontent reaches it’s highest pitch; as my cat looks at me, I realize: if looks could kill, I would be engulfed in flames right now, screaming.

He places her on the exam table, which also doubles as a scale.  She lays down immediately on the cold steel, looking around wide-eyed; the meowing has finally stopped, at least.

“Twelve-point-nine ‘ounds,”  He says quietly to a woman nearby.  She jots down a note.

“I’m sorry did you say erm…12 pounds?” I ask.

“Yes, last time you were here when you feerst got her, she was 9 ‘ounds,” He says, frowning, “Zis…zis is too much.”

“Uh, maybe they didn’t feed them enough at the shelter? She was probably scared…”  I start.

“Four pounds in 4 month’s, zis too much,”  He says, cutting to the chase.  Then, he turns to his assistant, “I said did you get zee 12.9 pounds?”

She nods.

“Alright, alright, how much should I be feeding them?”  I ask, making a mental note to read the back of the dry food bag.

“Depends on the type of food,”  He says, shrugging.

Both general and specific at the same time; that takes talent.  Pretty soon I’m done, and I have new pills for my cat.  Once I get home, Sara immediately runs under my bed and doesn’t come out for the next three days, except, of course, when I’m not around to eat food and use the litter box.

Welcome to my life.

I watch as the rain streaks slowly down my window.  It’s a dark, cloudy day, the rain is pouring down in sheets.  Inside the building, I can see shadowy figures moving about.  I check the clock, 5:10PM.  I’ve been sitting in my car for the past 20 minutes in the parking lot.  Earlier, I drove around to the ATM, but I couldn’t do it.

I look at the check that has my name in the “To” field.  Signed, Cupcakes Anonymous.  For 135 dollars.  In case you didn’t read that entry (click here for it), a few weeks ago I received a rebate check for 135 dollars.  I cashed it in, and not a week later I received another rebate check, for the same amount.  If I were to cash it in, I would practically be stealing the…cupcake from the company “Cupcakes Anonymous”.

I’ve been tapping the check on the steering wheel absentmindedly for the past 10 minutes.

I can’t do it.

I turn off my car, deciding I’ve looked like a bank robber long enough.  I flip open my phone, the contact info printed on the check; I call them up.

“Cupcakes Anonymous this is Michael, how may I help you?”  I hear a male’s voice answer.

I explain my situation to him.

“I’m sorry, you said that you received two checks for the same rebate amount?”

“That is correct.”

“I’m…going to have to get my manager for this,” He says, sighing.  “Can I put you on hold?”

“Of course.”

I’m on hold for about a minute, and another male’s voice answers.

“Yes this is Dan, I hear you received two rebate checks?”  He asks, as if hardly believing his ears.

“Yes,”  I say.

“Wow, well, thank you for calling, we will be cancelling that second check,”  Dan says happily.

“Of course,”  I say.

“Alright well, have a good day, and please tear up the check and put throw it away, we are going to cancel it,”  He says, about to hang up.

“Hey, can I get some sort of coupon or something?”  I ask, crunching the check in my hand.  “I’m starting to think I should’ve kept it.”

“You did the right thing by calling in,”  He says immediately, but I can hear something else behind his voice; maybe it is doubt in his own words?

“Right, of course,”  I say, not at all reassured.  I can hear typing in the background now.

“Well, here, let me send you a few things, coupons,”  He says, before adding, “You’ll get them in 1 to 2 weeks.”

“Thank you,”  I say.

“We appreciate your call here at Cupcakes Anonymous, is there anything else I can help you with today?”  He says, sounding suddenly like a robot.

“No, that’s it,”  I say.  He wishes me a good day, and we both hang up shortly afterwards.  I smooth out the check and tuck it in my pocket;  I decide I’ll shred it when I get home.

I’m starting to think I should’ve kept it.