With the Help of Technicolour

The T.V. proved to be just what she needed-a light distraction (well "light" being a VERY relative term). A distraction: a box to bury her "To-Do" list in. A To-Do list, which among it's proponents has not 1, but now coming up to 2 years worth of taxes (not including necessary bookkeeping work), address changes from 2, no, make that 3 moves ago (BUT in her defense, those 3 moves were all in the last 9 months-God bless Canada Post and it's $45 forward-mail-form ($59 with taxes)). Also on that list is the everyday "don't-even-bother-crossing-off's"; the items which seem to make their appearance to the list each day but never do get done: make the bed, clean the house, take the garbage out, buy groceries, find a French Tutor...finding the French Tutor thing should have been crossed off perhaps weeks ago, as communication, especially in the service industry as a waitress is deemed in today's world somewhat important. The task however proved to be much more difficult than ever anticipated. Already she and Phil have went through 2, one having been a little bit of an emotional washboard lacking professionalism and possibly even business ethics. The latter suspicion due to her selling a compilation of photocopied textbooks and computer-burned French Language Program C.D.'s to her students. The other Tutor, charming over the phone and elegant in email, a self-proclaimed world traveler and successful international film director charged only$15/hour for his breakthrough language method. The facts just did not seem to line up. People that exciting and that successful are not usually left selling their time on Kijiji for half the going market price, and besides, he lived too far away.

So to the T.V. she went. Helping her mission to block out all past and future duties is the most wonderous invention we'll call the "swivel rod". Anchored between the concrete pillar separating her "bedroom" from her "living room", and fastened to the back of the flat screen Toshiba, it allowed her to fade from reality even when she didn't want to leave the comfort of her bed-which by the way is still unmade.

Not used to having a T.V., her immunity to the "wiles" of this devilish contraption, were non-existent. She pressed the tiny "ON" button with all guards down. This thing, this "box", this wondrous and new world where life came and went in 1 hour intervals locked away the foreboding and impending duties silently nagging the core of her every fibre. Life was so happy in T.V. land. Especially as an English speaker in Montreal receiving only the basic cable included with her condo. With channels being as equally limited as her language, her T.V. world consists of YTV and TLC. Who can be unhappy with Spongebob Square Pants blowing bubbles in Bikini Bottom and Stacy and Clint changing the world one bad dresser at a time. Taxes may not be getting done, but she at least knows what not to wear if she were to do them. And if, as her luck may have it, were to get a visit from Revenue Canada for her un-submitted taxes, perhaps they will see her in her stylish business-casual suit, and graciously waive all penalties. So really, by NOT doing her taxes, which in reality only serves as a distraction from her T.V. watching, she in the long run is solving all her problems-as long as she can find the right pointy toed shoes for her suit (apparently pointy toes elongate the leg, giving the APPEARANCE of height, which for her 5foot 1.5inch frame is exactly what is needed).