I'm a Have. I know I am. I have a safe place to live, I have a stable job and income, we don't ever have to eat pancakes for dinner. We can buy things new or used... we have the luxury of choosing. I am blessed to have hot water and electricity whenever I want it. Heck, I even have money in a savings account. That is a blessing.
But sometimes it's hard to remember how lucky I am. Sometimes, when I see other people buying new cars or getting fancy new computers or spending way too much money on clothing or going on amazing vacations, it's hard not to be jealous... not to be mad that I'm still making a crappy wage, and so is Husband. My sister makes more than Husband and I put together.
I don't think I ask for too much in general. I don't need/want designer clothes or a fancy car. All I want is a home. A real home. I'm almost 30, Husband turns 40 this May. And we live in a crappy run-down condo in a crappy suburb. We have no yard for the Bean and Pup. No privacy from noisy neighbors (who smoke and stink up the building).
It's hard sometimes not to be jealous. And I feel bad about myself when I get all pissy about things like the size of my paycheck because I am lucky. Despite my griping, we are able to pay our bills each month, we have manageable debt (in the form of school loans and a mortgage, not credit card debt), and we're even saving for Bean's college fund. We have food in our fridge and clothes on our backs, the Bean gets to go to a safe clean school each day.
Anyway, sometimes I just gotta remind myself how lucky I am. I'm lucky to be a Have, and I need to stop comparing myself to the Have Mores.
Brief Detour for Despair
23 hours ago