Like many men at some point, I dream about opening a bar. I plan to call it Work Out. It will cater to married women in need of a little fun. On Friday nights, they will be able to come here and enjoy themselves. See, I have a gift for business. I am, as my wife Zsa Zsa likes to note, “A man with a million ideas, none of them very good.” Speaking of Zsa Zsa, she is fed up with this plain little life I’ve made for us——too many kids, too many chores, mind – numbing debt. The other day, she said she thought we needed a new family car. “Sure. How about an 87 Lincoln?” I said, and saw my dear Zsa Zsa age about 20 years, and become her mother right before my eyes. Yes, money is our madness. Last year, we thought we had found a little cushion when I published a book about the life here in suburban America. It sold 12 copies——six of them to my mother. Four other copies went to various aunts and uncles, who used them for martini coasters (杯垫), then sold them at yard sales. The two remaining copies went to perfect strangers. (I think I owe you dinner, whoever you are. Call me, OK? We’ll arrange something.) When the book didn’t take off, I wrote a TV show. Then I penned a short novel based on the earlier TV idea that didn’t sell. Currently, I am at work on a set of encyclopedias(百科全书). In a month, I plan to sell them door – to – door. Such is the life of a writer, sending off the most personal thoughts possible to his hard drive. I am a writer, but also the breadwinner in my family. I’m at the keyboard at 6 almost every morning, hoping to tap out one idea——just one——that will take us up the hill, to the mountain, to the top. 小题1:According to the passage, the author is leading a/an life.
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