“I came up with a great way to make some extra cash before I go back on tour,” I tell my sister Shannon on the phone. “You know how I had to study massage techniques back when I was in school?”“No, I did not know that. You went to art school. Why on earth would you study massage?”
“Dance classes, movement classes, we had to learn massage. It was educational.”
“Your school was so fucked up.”
“Will you please listen to my idea? Preppy went to massage school, years ago. He’s still got the table and all the supplies up in the attic. I could be a traveling massage therapist! Spend my day going to houses, helping folks release their tension.”
“Topher. You have to be accredited to do massage therapy. Even on Craig’s List you gotta put your license information in the ad.”
“That’s only if you’re claiming to be a certified therapist. I think they call it something else if you’re not certified.”
“Yes. Prostitution.”
“Well… crap. Okay, then I don’t have any ideas. It’s a shame, too. I think I’d be really good at helping folks get rid of tension, even if it is illegally. I have large hands.”
“And you’re creative enough to be a good drug mule, but I wouldn’t recommend that either. I know times are tough, baby bro, but let’s stay inside the law here.”
I’m home for another month before the play I’m in goes back on the road. I’m enjoying being back, but the delight is dampened by the fact that I’m earning virtually no money while I’m here. I’ve managed to pick up some odd jobs here and there, but these are harsh economic times. I’m competing against people who have things I don’t, like education and experience.
I always meant to get those.
So I’m at home with plenty of time to write, which is fun but not a quick way to earn cash. I also have my schedule clear to closely observe the effects of the medication I’m now taking for Attention Deficit Disorder. And lemme tell ya, that’s been an adventure. Three days ago I decided to clean the bathroom, which I never do, and I noticed how dingy our grout is. After scrubbing the floor with pure bleach for twenty minutes, it was still a yellowish-gray. Puce, maybe? I forget what color puce is, but I think it was puce. Undeterred, I found a white paint pen, and for the next four hours, I repainted every line of grout on the bathroom floor. It looks fantastic in there now. I mean, that floor sparkles like it’s in a Pine-Sol commercial. I can’t decide if I was admirably thorough, or dangerously unhinged.
So I’m at home with plenty of time to write, which is fun but not a quick way to earn cash. I also have my schedule clear to closely observe the effects of the medication I’m now taking for Attention Deficit Disorder. And lemme tell ya, that’s been an adventure. Three days ago I decided to clean the bathroom, which I never do, and I noticed how dingy our grout is. After scrubbing the floor with pure bleach for twenty minutes, it was still a yellowish-gray. Puce, maybe? I forget what color puce is, but I think it was puce. Undeterred, I found a white paint pen, and for the next four hours, I repainted every line of grout on the bathroom floor. It looks fantastic in there now. I mean, that floor sparkles like it’s in a Pine-Sol commercial. I can’t decide if I was admirably thorough, or dangerously unhinged.
I suppose it’s possible to be both.
The next day, I accidentally left the back door open, and a squirrel got loose in the house. Let me repeat that: There was a goddamn SQUIRREL in my house. Thing one, those bastards look three times bigger when they’re not outside. Thing two, even though it was the squirrel’s choice to enter my house and it could have easily left the way it entered, it began to freak out run amok in my very clean kitchen. While I was profoundly disturbed by the event, I still was able to formulate a plan for its departure by building a maze out of Christmas decoration boxes and suitcases, then shooing it out the door with a broom. I was impressed with my own level-headedness. I think my little orange pill might be working.
Another benefit is that I’m rarely hungry on the drug. I feel this is me contributing to our financial state, since now it costs much less to feed me. And thanks to a recent engagement party where the theme was “Stock the Bar,” Preppy and I have enough vodka from our friends to last us the entire Obama administration, including if he’s re-elected in 2012.
So I am doing my part, as best I can. Granted, it’ll be better if I can figure out a revenue-generating enterprise soon. But in the meantime, I keep the grout clean and the house rid of squirrels, don’t eat much, and try to be ready with a cocktail whenever my breadwinning fiancé comes home.
The next day, I accidentally left the back door open, and a squirrel got loose in the house. Let me repeat that: There was a goddamn SQUIRREL in my house. Thing one, those bastards look three times bigger when they’re not outside. Thing two, even though it was the squirrel’s choice to enter my house and it could have easily left the way it entered, it began to freak out run amok in my very clean kitchen. While I was profoundly disturbed by the event, I still was able to formulate a plan for its departure by building a maze out of Christmas decoration boxes and suitcases, then shooing it out the door with a broom. I was impressed with my own level-headedness. I think my little orange pill might be working.
Another benefit is that I’m rarely hungry on the drug. I feel this is me contributing to our financial state, since now it costs much less to feed me. And thanks to a recent engagement party where the theme was “Stock the Bar,” Preppy and I have enough vodka from our friends to last us the entire Obama administration, including if he’s re-elected in 2012.
So I am doing my part, as best I can. Granted, it’ll be better if I can figure out a revenue-generating enterprise soon. But in the meantime, I keep the grout clean and the house rid of squirrels, don’t eat much, and try to be ready with a cocktail whenever my breadwinning fiancé comes home.
If I can’t help strangers alleviate their tension, I can still try to reduce his.
