I woke this morning with the phrase, "You are priveleged" in my mind. I've fought my whole life in defense of the fact that my family didn't start out with stable finances. I've had to explain to any number of people that I know what it's like to have your clothes on lay-away at Kmart (not that it was any of their business to start with). The fact remains, though, that I lead, and have probably always led, a life of privilege. I am loved by both of my (still married) parents. I have a grandmother whose only (current) complaint about me is that she doesn't see me often enough. I have a job that pays enough for me to have enough left over to have a subscription to an online game. Seriously? Folks, that's privilege.
I may not have the biggest house or the fanciest car. I may have parents who have always worked in public service. Oh, but I am privileged.
And that is something I must remember as I grow irritated with the customer who may be a tad hard to understand because of all those missing teeth. I shouldn't complain so much about spending at least an hour a day standing, because there is a man who has no legs who frequents my workplace.
I am privileged, and chances are, if you have the leisure time to read this blog (if, indeed, you know what a blog is), you are privileged, too.