Can I buy you a cup of coffee, or pay your mortgage?

I am exhausted. This summer has taken it's toll on me, both emotionally and physically. I've worked some very long hours and had a whole lot of fun. Some would say I've been "burning my candle at both ends" for awhile. Things I've learned: 1.) It is entirely possible to survive on a diet of caffeine, sugar, alcohol and cigarettes. 2.) If you sleep 15+ hours on your day off, it is then possible to function on a mere 3+ every other day of the week. 3.) If you do this long enough, you will eventually crash, realize 3 months have passed you by at an alarming speed and decide you need a vacation to an island in order to recover. This is where a sugar daddy would be quite convenient. I've often joked about wanting one and in fact, I and a few of my friends have had such "opportunities" present themselves over the years. Fortunately, we all have fairly high standards and are plagued with these pesky morals that keep us from submitting. Would it be nice to quit my jobs and instead spend my days shoe shopping, getting spa treatments, and sipping lattes? Yes. I think I would enjoy the hell out of that, but only for about a week or two. Then I would get bored, begin feeling useless, fall into a downward spiral of self-loathing and begin pining for the days when I was a tired, yet self-sufficient, slave to the masses. The larger dilemma, of course, is the implied sexual payback. My understanding is that those resort vacations and $90 facials, come at a price and the fact is, I can't stomach the idea of whoring myself out to some 50-something, overweight, pasty, boring business man. Ideally, when I happen upon the man of my dreams one of these days, perhaps as we both reach for the last bottle of '07 Seghesio Zin at the specialty wine shop, in a very meet-cute, Hollywood way, he will already have made his millions and he won't tell me at first because he'll want to make sure I love him for him and that I'm not just some gold digger. Of course, I'm not, so we will end up falling madly in love and moving into his amazing, yet humble Outer Banks beach house, which I will proceed to decorate with expensive wicker furniture and gauzy curtains that billow in the ocean breeze. But until then, I will continue to haul my tired ass to work every day with a smile on my face, because if nothing else, I have my pride and an intoxicating sense of possibility...