I know a man who, because he works so much, has a very big and nice house. It’s a very cozy house, with three sumptuous livingrooms. The man, because he works so much, doesn’t have time to sit in any of his livingrooms. His cleaning lady would like to have a house like that, with three livingrooms. Sometimes she sits on one of the comfortable sofas to relax, but she doesn’t enjoy it, because she thinks all the time: “If I had a sofa like this...,” and reminds herself that it is not hers, and that when she gets home she’ll have to sit on an uncomfortable wooden bench. I also know a man who doesn’t work and has nowhere to sit; he would like to work to have a comfortable sofa. I know another one who only works part time, and he can sit, but as he doesn’t work that much, his sofa is very uncomfortable; he wants to work more to have a better sofa. In the sofa factory it is forbidden to sit. I have seen a cat sleeping comfortably on his sofa.


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