It's the end of the world as I know it so why do I feel fine? (apologies to REM)
I can answer that with a four letter word. BEER. Yes, I think I have officially joined the ranks of the unemployed, poverty-stricken, down-trodden population of the earth as I found myself spending my last vestiges of cash on beer tonight. No doubt I will regret this in the morning as I contemplate how to make breakfast out of left-over fish and rice. Perhaps I will make fish tacos in an attempt to say, "I'm not poor, I'm hip." But the truth of the matter is that I spent my last $7 on beer because we all need an escape from time to time and quite frankly, when you are poor and desperate that promise of escape has a much greater appeal than when you are sitting happy on a paycheck. From a more practical standpoint, $7 isn't going to make or break anything around here, but all the same I feel that I've reached some awful turning point where escape has become more important than... well, I don't know. Because if it came down to the choice between escape and toilet paper, toilet paper would definitely win.