Money
In the past six days I have done nothing but work -- 9 to 6 being the efficient and effervescent marketing princess (the job that offers a check in the bank every two weeks, like clockwork) and 7 to 12 doing the stuff that is SUPPOSED to make me some money. Eventually.
The only thing that would make sense about doing the money stuff right now is if someone would actually GIVE me some money each time I finished some sub-task that leads to the actual-task. I am talking about money in my hand. Here's a hundred bucks for washing the walls in the master bedroom. And here's another $50 for taping the trim.
Then, once I finish the actual-task (this is in the future, people, because I haven't finished one single thing), I get an annuity. A framed certificate, "Painted Master Bedroom," worth THOUSANDS.
I did get the hot tub in complete working order. But I cheated and paid people to come and fix it and clean it. THOSE people get money in their hand, but me? I get the tantalizing dream of vacation renters who will eventually give me money. And since I spent all day Sunday figuring out a detailed budget using my Quicken software, I know that I need more money or else this Tahoe house is going on the auction block.
I have to say that there is only one thing that is making it all possible over here in Tahoe. And that is the parting gift that K gave me when we broke up in March. Here's how it went down (condensed version): we got in a huge fight and on a Sunday night, after a stand-off where we didn't speak all weekend, I went to his place and he broke up with me. He grabbed a manila envelope that could be used to ship a refrigerator from under his desk and walked around his apartment, picking up things I had left over the past year and putting them in the envelope.
I sat quietly while he packed me into an envelope and he walked into the room, licked and sealed the massive thing, and handed it to me. Then he walked me to the door and said "you'll be ok."
When I got home and unpacked I found a 1/2 oz. of the green stuff in there and I was shocked. I haven't seen that much in one place since I was a sophomore in college and sold joints from my Days Inn motel room in Daytona Beach to pay for spring break. So I called him. Turned out his parting gift was payback for a plane ticket I bought him in October, something I had completely forgotten about. Apparently K wanted his accounts up to date. And he had a gift from a friend in Humboldt that would do the trick.
So now, in Tahoe, I have the high motivation. Most people say that they melt into their couch when they smoke the stuff, but me? I have always said if I smoke enough, I'll clean the oven. It doesn't even have to be MY oven. I just get antsy and it's the perfect remedy for being 200 miles away from all my friends in a house that has about a million little projects that need to be addressed before the rich vacationers can move in for a weekend.
HA! This is the house that pot built.
The only thing that would make sense about doing the money stuff right now is if someone would actually GIVE me some money each time I finished some sub-task that leads to the actual-task. I am talking about money in my hand. Here's a hundred bucks for washing the walls in the master bedroom. And here's another $50 for taping the trim.
Then, once I finish the actual-task (this is in the future, people, because I haven't finished one single thing), I get an annuity. A framed certificate, "Painted Master Bedroom," worth THOUSANDS.
I did get the hot tub in complete working order. But I cheated and paid people to come and fix it and clean it. THOSE people get money in their hand, but me? I get the tantalizing dream of vacation renters who will eventually give me money. And since I spent all day Sunday figuring out a detailed budget using my Quicken software, I know that I need more money or else this Tahoe house is going on the auction block.
I have to say that there is only one thing that is making it all possible over here in Tahoe. And that is the parting gift that K gave me when we broke up in March. Here's how it went down (condensed version): we got in a huge fight and on a Sunday night, after a stand-off where we didn't speak all weekend, I went to his place and he broke up with me. He grabbed a manila envelope that could be used to ship a refrigerator from under his desk and walked around his apartment, picking up things I had left over the past year and putting them in the envelope.
I sat quietly while he packed me into an envelope and he walked into the room, licked and sealed the massive thing, and handed it to me. Then he walked me to the door and said "you'll be ok."
When I got home and unpacked I found a 1/2 oz. of the green stuff in there and I was shocked. I haven't seen that much in one place since I was a sophomore in college and sold joints from my Days Inn motel room in Daytona Beach to pay for spring break. So I called him. Turned out his parting gift was payback for a plane ticket I bought him in October, something I had completely forgotten about. Apparently K wanted his accounts up to date. And he had a gift from a friend in Humboldt that would do the trick.
So now, in Tahoe, I have the high motivation. Most people say that they melt into their couch when they smoke the stuff, but me? I have always said if I smoke enough, I'll clean the oven. It doesn't even have to be MY oven. I just get antsy and it's the perfect remedy for being 200 miles away from all my friends in a house that has about a million little projects that need to be addressed before the rich vacationers can move in for a weekend.
HA! This is the house that pot built.
posted by Ponygirl at 7:11 PM
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