I live in a conglomeration of neighborhoods that form a 2+ million person city. And it is Mother's Day soon. I work as a florist.
I have spent the last 12 years "marrying and burying" as my fellow florists call it. My job gives me everything but the money I need to have a good middle-class life, but oh there are the perks to be sure:
I get to be expressive, I get to work in a colorful, oxygen rich environment, I make things. These things are beautiful and transcendent often, full of motion and wonder.
My Sweetheart works at the job with the retirement package. I often feel like I am on state mandated subsidized lunch program when we eat out; he buys the nice wine. Sometimes he talks about retiring and working at a job that might fill his soul a bit. I get what he is saying, but then worry about money.
I want things to be different. Things are not different.