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Oh, to Be Crazy and Get Paid for It (standard:humor, 906 words)
Author: GodspenmanAdded: Sep 26 2020Views/Reads: 1006/728Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Being crazy isn’t worth all the money in the world.
 



I usually don't complain a lot. When I do I get caught in some dilemma
that I can't talk my way out. You think I would learn my lesson, but 
I'm still in the learning curve. 

It was a long week, and the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I had
a busy schedule. She went her way, I went my way and the Spousal Twain 
only meets after the week's work is done. 

Some weeks are better than others, but some aren't. And I was having a
rather dismal week with a few things going wrong. For one, my vehicle 
needed to go to the garage to be fixed. 

I always fear taking my truck in for repairs because it usually ends up
costing more than expected. However, this week, when I went to pick up 
my vehicle, it was only 1/3 of what I thought it would cost. I was 
happy. After all, who wouldn't be happy? 

I drove home in time for supper, and the Gracious Mistress of the
Parsonage had a wonderful supper prepared for us, and we enjoyed our 
time together. I am a little careful because she has a way of sneaking 
in vegetables that I don't recognize. 

After supper, we took our coffee into the living room to watch a little
bit of the news. That is always the wrong thing to do, and you would 
think I would know it by this time. 

If there's anything positive on the news, it has something to do with
this coronavirus. I'm a little weary of that. 

Watching the news, my wife could see that I was getting a little bit
agitated. I don't always get agitated, but when I do... I do. 

“What has you all worked up,” my wife asked? 

I was afraid to respond to that question. I have learned that every time
your wife asks you a question, there is an agenda behind the scene that 
you can't see. I was afraid I was being set up or something. 

Finally, I broke my silence and said, “I'm rather tired of all of these
crazy politicians who don't know their right hand from their left hand, 
except when they stick it out for donations. I'm tired of these crazy 
politicians being on television! Why can't they go to the principal's 
office like I had to do so often when I was in grade school?” 

I tried to keep my rant as short as possible. I had a lot more that I
wanted to say, but I was a little frustrated, so I tucked it in the 
back of my brain. Incidentally, there's plenty of room back there. 

When I quieted down, I heard some chuckles across the room. I looked in
my wife's direction, and there she sat giggling and chuckling and 
having a great time of it. 

“What's so funny?” 

She just looked at me and continued giggling and then finally said,
"Don't you know that those crazy politicians get paid for being crazy. 
The crazier they are, the more money they make." 

Then she broke into one of her hysterical laughters. 

“Don't you,” she said between giggles, “wish you were that crazy?” 

I had to think about that. I never thought of that before. But, as
usual, my wife is right. I wish I could get a job where I didn't have 
to do anything and get paid 100 times more than I'm worth. 

“If you want to make money like them,” my wife said rather soberly, “you
will have to be just as crazy as they are.” 

That's a very good thought. Maybe I ought to look into this situation a
little closer. 

“That's why you don't have much money,” my wife explained, “you are not
crazy enough!” 



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