We’re conditioned to believe that having money changes everything, and for a very brief window I felt that promise surge–I let the peasants roll my burritos for a couple of days, and extravagantly flung away twenty-five dollars on a pair of glass baking dishes, because the old ones were still mineralized and slick with cat spit from serving as emergency feline water supplies while the house was empty of humanity day after warming day.

They’re still dishes and they just need more doing yet.

This is my wealthy story.

We are who we are regardless.

Let there be crown moldings, or not; after material enlightenment, then laundry.