Sweepstakes

TV ads constantly tease her of all the great places she could go. "See the sights! Eat the food! Relax on an impossibly tropical beach while being fed grapes by attractive male natives!" The thoughts are daydreams. The logistics are nightmares. If you're not on a company payroll, practically paying for "fun in the sun" is just about as practical as giving up your first born. With the constantly crying demon in the next room it almost seems fair. A trip to the beach is to a rocky one made up of glacial till. The distance people can throw themselves is proportionate to how big their wallets are. For now, she enters all the sweepstakes she can.