A Pepper Too

Like most people, I want things. Preferably free things. Like a fool, I enter online contests and get nothing for my efforts except more spam. Dr. Pepper bottle lids accumulate in my workplace "break room," and I scavenge them, hobo-style, for the little codes they shelter on the inside. I seem to have no problem spending time logging on to the Dr. Pepper website to enter the codes in hopes of being awarded a free Mini Cooper. But if I had to spend money to do it, I wouldn't.

It took me about ten minutes to get an account at the Dr. Pepper site, decipher the codes on the lid, and enter them in (to discover I was not, as I've always suspected, a winner). If I was required to spend a sixth of my hourly salary to discover the same sad truth, I just wouldn't do it. Too risky.

Weird thinking, though. If I run out of money, I can always make more money. If I run out of time, well, I'm dead.

I severely judge people (in silence, of course, since I am both polite and frightened of reprisal) who waste their money in pointless endeavors like pyramid schemes, gambling, or boating. I, however, will happily spend half an hour trying to get a paper clip to float midway between two magnets.

Or writing a blog. Eh.
Let's see...at contractor's rates, I just paid $10 for the privilege to write this.

Bah.