Anyway, that was so awesome back in the day. You would just do all of your normal stuff, eat, play sleep, and then out of nowhere a tooth would fall out and you’d put it under your pillow and then BAM, you got a quarter. Or a dollar if you were that rich kid up the street.
It didn’t matter if the tooth was a little yellowed from that epic Halloween haul of ’93, it didn’t matter that the left front edge was chipped from when you bit into a frozen Big Daddy at a basketball game. A tooth was a tooth, and you got paid.
Now-a-days I never get paid for doing nothing. I am starting to lose hair at an alarming rate, is there a Hair Fairy out there? How about the fact that I am quickly losing my social filter and awkward comments routinely drop out of my mouth, is there a fairy for that? He’d look like Will Ferrell from Old School and always be slightly confused.
One option to keep the spirit of not working but still getting paid alive is to pull what George did on the show Seinfeld. He’d just put everything off and skip happily with his paycheck to the bank. My friend in market research actually manages this no-work=dollar-dollar-bills-y’all quite effectively. He spends most of his workday online reading smut, and well, this blog.
If it weren’t for my ingrained sense of guilt, I’d join George and my friend and never lift a pencil, aside from scratching unreachable places, again. However, that cannot be me. I would stop being able to sleep. I would feel like everyone was suspicious of me. I’d only sit in restaurant seats where my back was against an easily defendable position. Plus I would grow the 'stash and smell terrible because I'd view grooming as one step away from a memo.
I can’t live like that.
I realize that I am not going to lose anymore teeth (hopefully) and that from here on out I need to start actually start putting in the hours. It doesn’t mean I can’t sigh.
*SIGH*
Flakes of peeling, sun burnt skin anyone?
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