"I don't know why we bother doing this," I told Amy. "It's just wasted time and energy. I spent the morning looking for profitable items to re-sell, and I'll need to do it again tomorrow to have a chance to break even for the week."
I got no response. I didn't expect one because I was talking to Princess Amy, that spoiled little brat of a limbic system in the middle of my brain who gets her kicks by overloading my emotional system.
"Doesn't it bother you?" I asked.
"Nope," Amy said. "I'm only in it for the money, and I don't care how much time and energy you put into it."
"The money?" I said. "I only hope I don't lose money this week."
"Yeah, you're not much of a business person. You should pay more attention to me. I'm an entrepreneur."
"You are not a business person! You're a little almond-shaped cluster of brain cells. You might benefit from the money I make but you never really profit. It's a foreign concept to you."
"Making money's not the only way to profit."
"What are you talking about, if anything?" I asked.
"I'm an entrepreneur," she said. "I get you to do stupid stuff--to generate excitement--and you can be real entertaining sometimes."
"Oh, yeah," I said. "The excitement you cause is only entertaining for you and it never ends well."
"When I'm on a roll," she said, "I can fire you up enough to get bystanders involved, and that's when it really becomes fun. What a riot!"
"You're a menace! You're a danger to the fabric of the universe."
"I'm an influencer," she said. 'And I have lots of projects in the works. I'm not just another pretty face, baby. That's why I have to keep my brain functioning efficiently. Which reminds me, I'm not operating at full power right now because I need a latte and a muffin."
"This is leading up to a stop at Surf & Java, isn't it?" I asked.
"Exactly. I can get some caffeine and you can have an Impossible sandwich for my lunch."
A few minutes later, we were seated outside the surf shop, and Amy was relatively quiet while I ate. I suppose she was soaking up some nutrients to stoke her engines. I was thinking about going home when she spoke again.
"I need another latte," she said. "You get it and I'll wait here. I'm gonna look at this magazine. It says on the cover that Keanu Reeves used to surf competitively."
I didn't reply. I was beginning to feel like I was no more than a vehicle to chauffeur my limbic system around town.
"Too bad you can't stay here and have someone else get the coffee," she said. "What if there's a sudden rush of customers and someone gets our table?"
"A rush of customers?" I said.
"It could happen," she said. "Good idea," I said, "I'll stay here to keep someone from taking our table."
"So anyways," Amy said."Did you know that Keanu was a surfer? Maybe we should take up surfing."
I tried to get comfortable in the plastic chair as I overthought Amy's earlier comments about being an entrepreneur.
"You got a lot of thinking going on," Amy said. "It's getting hot in here with all that thinking you're doing. You're burning too much energy."
“I didn't realize that you were capable of doing anything more than mismanaging my emotions," I said. "Just what are those projects you spoke of?"
"I'm a complex person," Amy said. "I got a lot going on. You haven't even seen the tip of my iceberg yet, baby. One of my goals is to be a TV star."
"How's that even possible?" I asked.
"I'm gonna be a reality star like Kyle, Lisa, and Khole."
"A reality star--you're going to be the next Khole Kardashian?"
"It's only a matter of time," she said. "I got a plan worked out, and I'm about to start shooting demo reel. That's how you make it happen, you gotta shoot a demo reel."
"What's your plan? And how are you going to film anything?"
"First," she said, "it's a concept show that I call Naked at Work."
"I already don't like it," I said.
"You don't like it but you're really good in it," she said.
"What's that supposed to mean. I'm not going to be part of anything called Naked at Work."
"But you already are. Remember those dreams? The ones where you're working in an office and you're in your underwear? That's my prototype for the show. Now it's time to move to being completely naked."
"You little jerk!" I said. "Those dreams are caused by you! I thought we had an understanding. You and I are not different persons. We're the same. What I experience, you experience. Why do you do this to me?"
"It gets boring in here," she said. "I need some diversion."
"But why not give me fun, exciting, positive dreams? You'd benefit from safe, comfortable dreams just as much I would."
"Yeah, but I'm competing for a Dreamy award, and with Naked and Afraid, I think I've got a winner."
"Awards? How does that work? Do you cause me to dream that you get an award?"
"No, dummy," she said. "There's a whole dream universe with lots of stuff going on it. What do you think dreams are for, anyway? They aren't just entertainment for you, you know."
I was overwhelmed. I needed some time alone and that's not easy to find when you're trying to get away from your own thoughts.
"Uh oh," I said, "look at the time. It seems we don't need to be concerned about a customer rush, I need to check on my mom and then stop at the hardware store. I've got to patch the lanai screens where the squirrels gnawed through them."
"Your mom is no longer living on the earth," Amy said.
"No, but I still check in with her daily."
"Well, if I was you," Amy said, "I'd get home in time for a nap so you can keep up with me tonight. We got a demo to record."
"I won't forget about that," I said, and I said it without any real chirpiness.