Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is hard for me to understand why these nasty rich people are always screaming at me, as if there were some reason to be jealous of their rotten attitudes. I couldn't care less about those snarky rich people who are so full of themselves. Yes, I suppose it would be fun to play the role of Santa Claus, if only I had millions of dollars on hand to dole out for the funding of orphanages and clinics and so forth. In such a scenario, with money bags bulging, I am sure that I would have friends and defenders all over the place. However, when I am not even able to pay my own way independent of my parents, obviously the role of benefactress is not something that I am able to contemplate. And even if I did imagine that, it might not mean very much. It might mean, as for some people I know, such as Susie and Sammy and Sharon, that my father had died young and I was collecting life insurance payments and Social Security or pension monies to supplement any salary that I might earn. So is that lucky? Only for the beneficiaries. That actually means nothing to me. This conversation is irrelevant.