Good help is hard to find.  But that doesn’t mean we must stay monogamous.  Here are some of the entries from a journal I kept to inadequate individuals I paid good money to.

THE ACCOUNTANT:   I mean c’mon, once in a while I’d like to see how someone else crunches my numbers.  Wesley my CPA,  is the only one who has ever seen the inside of my tax shelter and in 2014 when I reported my earnings, he winked and promised,

“Next year we’ll definitely ‘income’ simultaneously!”

Mmmmmm.  Still it’s not like we’re married or even engaged.  And I wouldn’t be cheating on my taxes either.  Just him.

THE HOUSEKEEPER:  It was awkward coming clean with Winifred (Wynn for short) but she’d been sponging off me too long.  I planned to wipe away her mirror streaking mediocrity in one fell swoop.  When she stated, “I don’t do laundry.”  I would simply retort, “I don’t do Wynndows!”  I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.  Wanting a clean slate,  I gave her $100 “good-luck” money — as she departed, I noticed Wynn tossed our dog $20.  “It’s only fair I wish my partner (and his tongue) good-luck as well,” she said.  “Every night, he’d wash the dishes while I’d dry.”  Ugh.  I should have just left her a “Dear John” letter on top of the toilet.

THE GARDENER:  Even though I love it when he talks dirt to me, I began to plant the idea in his head that I would soon be asking for my garage door-opener back. I didn’t want to soil his reputation because I knew if there was any mud-slinging, I would be the one losing ground. So this morning as I was pining away, staring at my neighbor’s lush lawn, I casually remarked that it was mowed using the newest “cutting hedge technology.”  He took offense and reminded me that “the grass is always greener.”  I felt great re-leaf when he didn’t try to get at the root of our problem and instead simply withered away — out of my life (and yard) forever.  I will miss his anti-coil hose with the pistol nozzle.

THE DOG-GROOMER:   Trickier because I needed to convince her my two-year-old Shih-Tzu (Breed Name itself causes embarrassment because it sounds like sneezing and swearing in Japanese!)  needed a change of pace.

Me:  Please don’t be blue.  It’s not You.  It’s my Shih-Tzu.

Groomer: (french accent)  What makes your dog  say “Adieu!” Why did things go askew and now it’s me he wants to eschew?

Me:  First of all, Gesundheit and Bless you!  Maybe he just wants something new?  Or maybe there’s such a hullabaloo, your shop is like a zoo?  Or maybe he doesn’t like your view?  Or perhaps for a male, you make him look too Fru-Fru?

Groomer:  Yeah?  Well Screw You!  AND your little dog the Shih Tzu, too!

I think she was auditioning for the witch from Oz.

THE HANDYMAN:   Phil was difficult to give the Ax. Two months ago, I Hammered home the idea there would be no more Screwing around in my household. I made a gut-Wrenching plea never to see Phillip’s Head around these parts again.  Yesterday I opened my door to see him on a ladder changing the porch light bulb, proudly brandishing his Tool.  “What part of ‘Fired!” don’t you understand?” I shouted.  He proceeded to fix my oven.  Feeling compassionate, I asked if he’d consider building me a maple desk.  “Oh boy, I wood.  I wood!”  He appeared quite Level-headed, so off we went to the lumber store and I think we’ve Repaired our relationship, too.

THE CHIROPRACTOR:  I didn’t want him to give me an attitude adjustment so I decided to just bend over back-wards and play it straight. Besides I’ve been in pain and didn’t want to cut off my nose to spine spite my face.  But last night I slipped up at the disk-otheque  and accidentally danced with a new chiropractor who promised he’d always be at my back and call.

THE MANICURIST:  She used reverse psychology on me.  Said I nibbled on my cuticles too nervously and she’d had enough! What biting sarcasm!  Then she claimed my nails were such a mess, she’d rather file her tax return.  – –  maybe I should fix her up with my Accountant!  (See #1 above.)  After calling me “Dishpan Hands” I couldn’t take her insults any longer so I mentioned hating the perfume she wore.  “You’re soaking in it,” she said slyly.  You gotta Hand it to that Madge!