A few days ago my mom told me she needed to have a serious talk with me. She sat me down, looked me in the eyes, and explained to me that it was imperative and urgent that I rearrange my bedroom furniture. You see, my bed is aligned with and faces the door (I can see directly down the hallway from where I sleep), and this configuration apparently allows evil spirits to enter my room and attack me at night. She explained that these ghostly visitations have been affecting my life, my career, everything this past year, and I needed to make a change for the sake of my very being.
"Let me think about it." I chuckled. She'll probably forget about it in a few weeks and never mention it again, I thought.
"No. Promise me you'll move your bed away from the door."
"You have to do it. Promise."
"I'll think on it for a bit," I said, trying desperately to brush her off.
Frustrated, she pulled out a premeditated hundred dollar bill from her purse and waved it in my face. "Promise, and I'll give you this!"
So I'm rearranging my furniture this weekend. Hey, a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars.