The one percent. The cream of the crop. The elite. I wish to be nothing like you. It must be very difficult, being so upset at everyone around you all the time. You must be severely frustrated to never feel satisfied - no matter how much money you have or how many things you buy. I can't believe you aren't tired, with your mouth running all day like that. What a shame and a waste of human beings.
I long to be like the truck driver, who busts his ass working the graveyard shift, and whose daughter thinks he is so cool that she wants to go to work with him any chance she gets.
I hope to be like the working mother, who doesn't take guff from anyone and who protects her family from evil while also teaching them to look for the good in everyone.
How I wish to grow into the grandmother, whose kindness and compassion radiates so strong that no amount of malice or rottenness can pierce its shield.
I am thankful to the Santa Barbara service industry, for teaching me a fine lesson in how NOT to act if I ever have any money. Working for them will ensure this never happens, so I think I'm safe...for now.
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