“Look,” I said, sensing her lack of interest. “Why don't you get more involved in this. You could be selling, too. You aren't working. You don't have a job. You don't do anything. Why, you could make us an extra $1,000 a month with hardly any effort!”
That's when my wife started shouting, about how she drove the kid hither and yon and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner and tended to the garden and mopped the floors and did the laundry and did I happen to notice the falling-down ceiling in the living room and who was I to say she didn't work, didn't do anything, when all I did was spend all day every day on eBay, and no longer lived in the real world, and wasn't in bed at night when she needed me to be in bed, and wasn't making the money I used to make as someone who could make $200 an hour with his real job, which was now seeming more like his former job, and yes, she had been poking around my office and had seen what was going on, and did I think I could fool her, like I'm always trying to fool her with some moneymaking scheme, like using that stupid FastTrack mutual-fund software I once so loved to make money trading mutual funds, how much did I gamble away using that, and she's about had it, I'm too selfish, a selfish bastard, really, and if I don't take care of some things around here, she's going to find a handyman who can.
It was a blistering screed that rocked me back on my heels.
This Is Your Brain On eBay
(1999-09) By Erik Hedegaard. @ Source