Dialin' for 'green'

Over the past year, I've been suffering from excruciating pain in my lower back. I've visited the doctors and they tell me "It's not bad enough yet, we can't do anything."

I ask them, "Do I have to be wheeled into your office in a wheelchair in order for you to do something for me."

Most of the time they skirt around the question, but when it comes right down to it, the answer is a long-winded, "YES."

Losing my income hasn't exactly thrown us into bankruptcy, but it has cut down considerably on our trips to out-of-town destinations for a weekend of R & R.

So over the last year, I've tried a variety of ways of adding some kind of funding to the household coffers. I've worked with Gene Morris on some of his projects, which has been lucrative, what I made working with Gene I've spent on "Make Money Over the Internet" schemes, and I even tried working in an office for a short time. That one didn't work out for a variety of reasons that included more than the pain in my back.

Brad and I were sitting around the house the other day discussing a fellow he knew before the two of us got together.

Brad glanced over at me and informed me, "If I ever see him out in the street, I'm going to lay him out." Anyone who knows Brad knows he's not a violent man. "Yeah right, Brad," I shot back sarcastically, "You wouldn't hit him if he came up and asked you to."

Brad looked me straight in the eye and replied, "Yeah, I'd put him down. That (so-and-so) has cost me a lot of money over the years."

I could feel my face beginning to pale. I started thinking of the Crossfire sitting in the front of the house, and the new computer sitting in my lap and all the times I've tried to start an Internet business and said, "It's not that much. We spend that much on (cigarettes, pop, eating out, going to the bar, etc.) in a (week's, month's, etc.) time, it'll fit into our budget." It always turned out that the only people getting rich were the ones I was sending the money to.

"Brad," I said, my face must have been a ghostly white by this time, "I've cost you a lot of money over the years. What're your going to do to me?" I glanced at the gun safe, hoping he'd forgotten the combination.

He looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. "I know, Babe but I'd never lay a hand on you, I love you."

"Well just don't stop," I begged him. "Because if you do you'll be knocking me into the last decade."

I've decided to try one more time, so now I'm working full-time from home, marketing "green" -- chemical-free, super concentrated, biodegradable packaged -- household cleaning, personal care, and nutritional products. This one is going to be a little bit more successful than the last 236 that I've tried -- they actually have corporate offices and distribution centers in two states which is a lot more impressive than a Web site and email address.

I have to make this work, because God forbid, if Brad should ever fall out of love with me, I'll have to enter the witness protection program.

You can contact Gloria Masoner at gmasoner@mac.com