Actually, that's a big, fat lie. I was born a cute white girl in upper middle-class suburbia whose only inherent detriment was that I had brown hair in a community of mostly aryan-looking peoples.
However, after growing up and overindulging in my creative-leanings (by studying art and literature in college and receiving a degree with which I could barely wipe my ass), marrying and divorcing my bohemian Knight in shining Salvation Army Pants, and birthing my little miracle girl, I pretty much forgot what it was like to live in a paid-for house and not wonder how the electric bill was going to get paid each month.
I've been living below the poverty line for so long that all this world economic crisis stuff really doesn't affect me all that much. Still, I can always find something to complain about. In fact, I was just fretting the other day with my therapist. She did help me put things in perspective, though.
The conversation went something like this:
Me (flopping on leather couch, touching hand to head in dramatic Scarlett O'Hara fashion): "So, I am stressed about the state of the economy."
Judith (nodding, looking skeptically at me over half-moon Smart Lady Glasses):
"Ah. You lost money in your 401K?"
Me: "I... don't have a 401K."
Judith: "Mmmm. Your stock portfolio, then. How's that looking? Pretty bad, huh?"
Me: "Yeah. I don't have any stocks though."
Judith (smiling bemusedly): "Planning to retire any time soon?"
Me: "No. Okay, OK, I get it. It could always be worse".
Judith: "It could always be worse."
And it's true. I love my therapist. She gently reminds me on a regular basis that no matter how much my drama-queen brain tries to convince me of my own suffering, there are always people out there in more pain than me. And that's wicked comforting. I know I shouldn't say that, but it is.
Seriously, though. It's all about perspective.
Being poor helps me recognize what is really important, because really, I have no other choice. When you don't have money for stuff, you don't miss it that much because you forget what it was like to even have it in the first place. You following me?
Plus, if I wasn't poor, I could never even afford to go to therapy that I can get for free because of my kick-ass poor people health insurance. So, who am I to complain, really?
So, I don't know about you people, but I think I'm gonna stop my bitching and put my efforts into some other cause. Like figuring out how to rob the ATM down the street.
See you guys later.
The Blizzard of '17
4 days ago