Money? What money?

Every once in awhile, mostly when I’m stressed out at work (or at home, or on the freeway, or really anywhere other than the farmer’s market) I have this very bizarre moment in which my world stops, and a Talking Heads song starts playing, like background music to the movie that is my life.

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack

And you may find yourself in another part of the world

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile

And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife

And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?

Today is one of those days. I received a call at 10:30am from some colleagues in another office across town. They’re checking up on me, since I’m operating a 32 acre property that does over $300M a year with a skeleton crew. The exchange went something like this:

Them: $1.6 million
Me: $1.6 million what?
Them: You have $1.6 million in outstanding AR.

(I think to myself…I’m missing $1.6 million? I probably should have known that.)

Me: Oh, it’s all in unapplied cash. I have it – it’s just not in the correct accounts.

(I’m a liar. I have no idea where it is. They laugh.)

Me: Besides, who cares? We don’t have an accountant, so there’s no one to bonus anyways!

(They laugh again. I am soooo funny.)

Them: Don’t you remember? They changed the bonus structure to include us.

(The laughing continues)

Them: I guess you’ll just take the free donuts.