I wanted to write about a topic near and dear to my heart – a topic that gets everybody into a hysterical fit every once-in-a-while and so I write from the deepest depths of my sarcastic loathing love/hate relationship and deal with the demon. Money, you are our mistress.
Our modern plight is that you can view your sad bank account balance on your smartphone from the comfort of your own apartment. No, money doesn’t buy happiness, but it is definitely more comfortable to cry in central air conditioning.
I remember during my first entry level job, after taxes and “benefits” and various automatic withdraws that I was making one dollar less per hour than when I was a life guard at 16 at my local YMCA. I think I was actually checking my work email on a Sunday when I came up with that realization.
By the way, why the quotations around “benefits” you ask? Have yours actually helped you lately? Have they?
There is a very real social epidemic describing the struggle of a generation who is abundantly aware we aren’t among the various populations dealing with real issues like famine and extreme poverty and disease while at the same time experiencing a different kind of starving for the stable life our parents so strived for.
Meanwhile, that “suburbia is bliss” lifestyle that our parents grew up into isn’t exactly what we envision as our success anymore – but thats a whole other conversation.