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I’m taking a break from doing my husband’s books and the office payroll to let you know I’m considering entering a monastery where they don’t worry about numbers. Do they? Do they have a bookkeeper there?
That would be a nightmare. If I gave up my whole entire life for a simpler existence just to do the books for a group of wine making monks. I guess I’d be getting me to a nunnery though. I have no idea what nuns make. There wasn’t a Remington Steele episode with nuns. Only monks. And they made wine. Really good wine. That a bad guy was trying to Steele.
I’m still eating better than I was by the way. My kids are too. And they haven’t cried yet.
Last night we had steak and peas. And then jerky. Because it was in the candy drawer. But my six year old would not believe it was dessert even though it was in the candy drawer.
Maybe that’s what I could do as a nun. I could open a steak house in Italy. I bet it would become a chain. And I’d become a millionaire. And I could hire someone to do the books.