Saturday, June 09, 2007
Poor, Poor Pitiful Me
Oprah always says that white people feel guilty for their blessings. She says she never does because she grew up not just poor, but "po--"... so broke that she couldn't even afford the last two letters.
I admit that I fall into the category of feeling guilty sometimes for my hard, hard life. I find myself complaining of exhaustion from running the kids to swim lessons (some people can't afford such luxuries.) I'm tired from shuttling them back and forth to preschool (more of the same thing as the first.) I'm so booked with parties, baby showers and wedding celebrations this month that I am going bonkers trying to find babysitting for all the events - events which I just show up for and get fed great food, great wine and have great conversation.
Oh, and poor me. In between all this "work" I have to fit in time for my networking. Which takes place on one of the most famous beaches in the world.
Then there's Paris Hilton. Do I think she deserves jail time? Sure. But when I think about her entitlement issues, I have to look inwardly and wonder what seperates me from her. I have phones, and clothes and cars and friends. She just has more of it. And to some people out there, who are Po--, I might as well be Paris Hilton.
I have attempted the logic on many occasion of "I have worked hard. I chose a good man to be my partner." But sometimes, when I really look at the big picture, I can't help but feel guilty anyway. I was born into a good family. I was sent to good schools. Sure, I made good choices (MOST of the time. Getting knocked up at 21 one of the first times I ever had sex? I'm thinking that falls under the "not such a great choice" category.) But I had a great support system during the rough times and learned from my mistakes.
I've said it before, but when I think of single moms out there - despite their choices - I can't help but think I must pay back. And so, regardless of the narcissitic bend of these personal writings, I am keeping my eye always moving toward others who might benefit from my help. Isn't everyone entitled to bitch about the mundane things of life? To dream as much as I do?
Anyone else have a thought on this?