Last night I balanced my checkbook and tabulated my expenses for the next week, and frankly, it wasn't pretty. All this good, healthy living is a little pricey, I've found. Now I remember the other reason I've been subsisting on ramen and ravioli all these years, besides the laziness and the raging carb addiction.

Meanwhile, I have a fridge-full of leftover New Year's spirits, chips in the cupboard, meat in the freezer. I was going to share this bounty with my friends gratis, but I'm reconsidering that plan now. I think it may be time to open Tallulah's Bar and Grill instead, where the booze is plentiful (but not free), and the food is...also not free. Please pay at the door and remember to tip your waitstaff generously.

Alternately, I had another idea, but it conflicted with the parameters of my Romantic Retirement, the bounds of decency, the law in 49 states.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could get paid just for being good? Not good at something, just GOOD. It would certainly motivate more people to do so. I couldn't pull in Mother Teresa's earnings (in this imaginary scenario where she's not dead), but I bet I could do OK. Two, three bucks a week, at least.