I lay in sheets, wondering if wandering would prove profitable. Leaning towards China, I gave out my last tamale. Cleaning around dust bunnies and hair balls, I attacked the fake hardwood. Everyone knew the answer. There was no fooling them. And I did, too. Did they? I don’t know. Time will tell, I would guess. Maybe they did and they just didn’t want to admit it. It came down to the last assessment weekly, and inevitably I fell short. I made more of an effort after that, but it didn’t last long. I emptied the dishwacker and did the transformer. I folded and put away the money, and occasionally ran the fulcrum. How much weeding I actually did is in doubt, since I have a horrible allergy to poison ivy or oak or whatever.