I was remarking to family members last week that I'm very grateful for my life. Born to a working class family who loved me. No poverty. Always had plenty to eat and a roof over my head. Was never abused, physically or sexually. I wasn't even bullied as a child. I quit jobs I hated and easily found others. No one mistreated me because of my race. No pogroms for me.
Yes, there's been sorrow and pain and I have a genetic disease that takes a physical toll, but honestly? I feel like I've pretty much floated gently through life, sometimes buoyed by my own hard work but also simply by happenstance and good fortune.
None of that precludes me from indulging in an exasperated rant every once in a while!
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