Wednesday, February 08, 2006
On the Redistribution of Wealth
It occurred to me today that I have too much money.
I was walking past the cute little Dr.-Ruth-looking old lady with the indefinable European accent who dusts the credenzas and re-cakes the urinals around our office, and for the first time I realized that she was probably not dealing with stains of suspicious origin for fun. No, at the age of seventy-whatever, she was mopping up a toner cartridge some idiot spilled all over six cubicles because she needed the money. I tried to tell myself that maybe she just does it because she likes the fancy support hose or because she has an expensive meth habit to fund, but I eventually had to conclude that it was more essential items (i.e. housedresses and Hot Pockets) that had her working for the weekend.
And suddenly I felt a little ashamed. Because while I waste money on, say, a can of EZ-E Cheese I will never actually finish or an Ashlee Simpson album with only one good song on it, other people are struggling just to make ends meet. While I worry about whether I can afford the condo with the jacuzzi tub AND the steam shower (which I don't even really understand and sort of fear), other people are wishing their public housing had working door locks or a full ceiling. And while I bitch because catering has made another disastrous attempt at seafood at my office, other people actually prepare the food I eat for a living. Yeah, I'm kind of an ass.
I think I'm going to go give like a billion dollars to charity. But not to anything that Bono supports. I just think his eyewear is way too provocative.
It occurred to me today that I have too much money.
I was walking past the cute little Dr.-Ruth-looking old lady with the indefinable European accent who dusts the credenzas and re-cakes the urinals around our office, and for the first time I realized that she was probably not dealing with stains of suspicious origin for fun. No, at the age of seventy-whatever, she was mopping up a toner cartridge some idiot spilled all over six cubicles because she needed the money. I tried to tell myself that maybe she just does it because she likes the fancy support hose or because she has an expensive meth habit to fund, but I eventually had to conclude that it was more essential items (i.e. housedresses and Hot Pockets) that had her working for the weekend.
And suddenly I felt a little ashamed. Because while I waste money on, say, a can of EZ-E Cheese I will never actually finish or an Ashlee Simpson album with only one good song on it, other people are struggling just to make ends meet. While I worry about whether I can afford the condo with the jacuzzi tub AND the steam shower (which I don't even really understand and sort of fear), other people are wishing their public housing had working door locks or a full ceiling. And while I bitch because catering has made another disastrous attempt at seafood at my office, other people actually prepare the food I eat for a living. Yeah, I'm kind of an ass.
I think I'm going to go give like a billion dollars to charity. But not to anything that Bono supports. I just think his eyewear is way too provocative.
