Outbid

“It’s time you earned some money” declared Accountant as he peered at me from over the top of his spectacles and our bank statement.

If it hadn’t been for the boiler breaking down and then the washing machine chasing me across the kitchen whilst on its rinse cycle, I wouldn’t have had to sit there watching my face droop in the reflection of Accountant’s glasses.

And now I had to get a job to pay for boring things I could neither wear nor eat. The injustice.
What could I do that would fit around Chickie’s hectic social life? I did some research and presented my findings to Accountant.

Referring to my notes, I began. “Well, apparently there’s a newspaper round up for grabs in Wallace Avenue?”
He shook his head, continuing to look at me expectantly.
“What? I said.
“Well? What else is there?” He nodded down at my A4 pad.
“That’s pretty much it!”
From his face I could tell he’d expected more.
“I thought I’d run for Prime Minister next year, when I’ve got more than 2½ hours available a day and fewer childcare issues? “

Later that evening, as I paid for my lotto ticket online, I racked my shrinking brain for some money making ideas. My friend worked the nightshift at Sainsbury’s but, as a result, didn’t sleep for two days a week.

“You just don’t sleep at all?” I squealed when she’d first told me.
“Nope” she nodded at her one year old, solely responsible.
“What, not at all?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”

Whilst I admired her endurance, I knew I was made of more delicate stuff. After eight hours sleep every night, it took a good thirty minutes for me just to be able to open both eyes at the same time.

“How about selling stuff on ebay?” my other friend suggested as we mulled over my predicament.
“I’ve got loads of Chick’s old clothes I could start with!” I enthused, stroking my chin as the idea took shape.
After eight hours taking over 300 photographs of Chickie’s old clothes, I liked the idea much less but I was committed.

Whilst Accountant sat on his laptop downstairs, I began uploading my photos on the old laptop upstairs. It took ages.

Bored, I took a little peek at some of the stuff for sale.

“What you doing?” Accountant shouted up to me, no doubt sensing danger.
“Just selling stuff on ebay” I shouted back.
“Good” came the reply.

I flicked back to the photo upload but nothing had happened. Then back to items for sale. Vintage jewellery to be precise.

There was a nice brooch. And a lovely bracelet. A small bid wouldn’t hurt. Accountant never need know. I clicked on ‘Confirm Bid’, for the bracelet. And the brooch.

And then ebay emailed Accountant, downstairs, kindly re-confirming my bids.