No wonder I’m broke! I clearly lack the initiative and determination to follow through when I start a new blog! What does this say about other areas of my life? Hmmmmnnnn…
Anywho. Hi. Have you missed me? I kind of hope so. It’s good to missed/wanted!
Now…for a random rant!
The other day, I came home from a long day of work after driving my car with no A/C for my 30 minute commute in the 105 degree heat. It’s not that I don’t want A/C or don’t use it. My mechanic cannot find a new blower motor for my car. They don’t make them anymore, and unless I can find a 1986 Sirocco which is the only other car to have this particular part other than my super-rare boutique edition Cabriolet, I’m stuck with my portable sauna.
I fired up my laptop to check out the facebook news of the day, and saw something in my feed that made me deeply angry for no reason.
A rich lady blogger that I must have clicked “like” upon at some point had posted something like, “Ahhhhh! Housewife Sangria on the new porch!” with a pic that looked something like this.
“Bite me, Lady.” I said. “Bite me!” I said again, this time with a deep seething resentment. And in that moment, I realized something: I hate rich lady bloggers.
I hate that all they write about is the expensive stuff they’re able to afford with their husband’s money. I hate that they’ve managed to marry well, while I only manage to break off ill-conceived engagements. I hate that their skincare regime costs more to maintain than the military of a small country. I hate that their rearview mirror didn’t fall off that day, smacking them on the forehead in the process. I hate that they get to have fancy dinners all the time while I…uh…er…okay I actually do splurge on food and booze so I can’t complain here. I hate that they can afford to have logos made for their blogs, while I’ve been using this pic for the last three years:
So…while they’re feeling like this:
I’m feeling like this:
When that lady wrote about coming home from a day of shopping (which I don’t even enjoy) to chill on the porch of her fabulous new house, it felt like a slap on the face. I can’t even sit on my rental’s porch without random drifters coming by and asking for money.
But why was I upset? She’s just doing her thing…not hurting anyone. I even know her, and it’s not like I dislike her as a person. She’s actually really nice.
I could only come up with one conclusion, and it’s pretty damn embarrassing. I was jealous. ME! Jealous! And that made me feel like an idiot. I have an awesome life with awesome friends and I probably have more fun than most people (and yes…even her).
Begrudging someone else of their success is just tacky. Calling someone else overprivileged smacks of a lack of drive and personal responsibility on your part. I know this.
So…I took a moment…muddled some mint from my garden with a lime, and added in a few fresh strawberries, some rum, and soda water…
…and clicked “unlike” until I can evolve to be less of a jerk.