TheBanyanTree: Trivia

[Monique]

I received an email today that said I could: "Make 500-10k from your
living room," which I find to be an amazing claim, seeing as how I'm
here, in my living room, making whatever hourly rate it is I charge for
whatever it is I'm doing at this moment, and yet the living room itself
is of no help in this regard. I could be making money in another room
altogether. I could be, assuming my cables would stretch that far, in my
bed inputting numbers into my laptop and still be making money. (Believe
me, it sounds like far more fun than it is, and is not nearly as
profitable as one might think.) The living room itself is not really
doing anything to earn any money, but gosh, I think wistfully, if only
my living room could make 500-10k all by itself . . . (I'm not sure what
the range suggests, perhaps that some living rooms are more ambitious
than others, and therefore work harder, and make more money?) I have
found that with my particular living room, the more I leave it alone,
the less inclined it is to earn any money at all. In fact, I think I
have one of the laziest living rooms on the planet. It does nothing for
me whatsoever. It just sits here, like a big empty room, waiting for me
to do something first. I'm opposed to this on the grounds that I already
pay the rent, what more does it want? 
 
I have the same problem with the Dog. She's a great dog, as far as dogs
go. But has anyone else noticed that as far as dogs go is only as far as
is convenient for them? Try putting a dog to work, see how far that gets
you. My dog, like my living room, has little ambition in life, other
than sleep, eat, play, chase cats, capture possums, beg for food, go for
car rides, and catch the occasional movie. 
 
So far, she has been unsuccessful at the last. It's just as well, since
she'd change seats at least three times during the movie, which I find
rather disturbing. Not disturbing in the disturbing sense, but in the
sense that she'd probably disturb me by making me move with her each
time. I like to find my seat, and stay there for the duration.
 
We went to see a movie the other day. (Not me and Dog, me and domestic
partner, who is much more fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I
mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our
seats first. So he leads me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in
the huge new 37-screen theater, and he scans the area. We walk in, down
the corridor. We turn to the right. We cross over the entire length of
the theatre. We go up the stairs on the other side. And we begin our
ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reach an altitude of staggering
heights. Then we turn right to find a seat close enough to the middle to
be acceptable. And he sits. And I, I realize, am now a good half mile
from the nearest restroom. At least. I have been led on the most winding
and torturous path possible simply because it amused him to do so. 
 
So while I was out I got popcorn and a big cup of a dark sweet liquid.
(I've given up asking for Pepsi or Coke, since whichever I ask for is
bound to be replaced by the other.) 
 
My living room is staring at me in frustration, wondering why I'm not
making any money at the moment. I wonder that too. I suppose I must get
back to it.
 
M