I got my tax bill today. Due to the sale of all assets of the coffee shop, I owe a big chunk. I was beginning to think about leaving town without forwarding address, until Kirsten said, what about all the money in the cupboard?

It's a long story, the money in the cupboard. With moving out to the Mall (capitalized, naturally) I left my bank downtown. I get off work at 4. My bank downtown closes at 4. I stuff my deposits into the bank machine at the Mall. I am given, every day, large amounts of change from people's purses and pockets, as I think I've mentioned. I can't stuff these large amounts of change into the bank machine. So, to keep them from choking up my safe, I started bringing them home with the idea of one day making it to my real bank.

This of course never happened. So tonight, in the despair engendered by the tax bill, I counted my cupboard full of money. Since those of you who know where I live aren't burglars, I'll tell you: 3726.00 worth of two dollar coins, quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies. For some reason, nobody gives me one dollar coins. This, in the spirit of money under mattresses, will go a fair way towards paying my tax bill. And depending on how I feel, I might just take it to the government and dump it on the counter. Voici, Madame ou Monsieur/ Here, Mr. or Ms. taxman, is all your money. (this is Canada, after all) Hope you've got a bank that's open past 4pm.