tonight i looked through half of the pottery barn catalog before i realized i am nowhere near being able to buy a $1500 bed and a $700 settee. but, you know, it’s cool. being poor is cool. tonight my friend told me her salary, and it came out something like, “I mean, I’m only making $______.”
and i started cackling. right there on the phone, right there in her ear.
because i make $11,000 less than she does per year.
but i take comfort in the fact that, when i do become wealthy, i will be ready. i have my clippings from different catalogs. i know the colors of the wood, the fabrics, the paints. i have my dreams in a little sterilite container with a white lid. they’re stacked in my closet along with the other sterilite containers that contain paintbrushes and photographs and candles and glue guns.
i am one giant dream waiting to happen, honey.