the American Dream

Poverty is like anything else: you get used to it. You get used to the little things first, like basic cable and using coupons. You get used to the medium things, next, like staying in on weekends, and a dashboard full of service lights. In time, even the big things become normal. You forget the last time your teeth didn’t hurt, or when you didn’t have to choose which bills to pay that month.

After a while, you might come to see it as a humble, noble, or liberating lifestyle choice. However, no matter how well you adapt, there are still moments that are unbearable. These too come in small, medium, and large.

The first time a cashier hands back your credit card, and she’s too embarrassed to say insufficient funds, is a small one. Trying to arrange five gifts under the X-Mas tree, to look like ten, is a medium one. Telling your kid, the doctor was wrong, mommy will be just fine…

They say such dramatic circumstances build character. Maybe that’s true, but I think I’d rather be comfortable. I’d rather be the boring old fuck, with a trunk full of groceries, talking to my neighbor about the weather, than the funny guy in the unemployment line.

Or wouldn’t I?

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