Jordi: “Capitalism has always gone too far.”
So, I am less than two weeks away from paying my new rent rate, which is about $300 more. Obviously, I don’t have a mortgage. I also don’t own a vehicle, have children, or pets. I have a job that most people aren’t qualified to do (ie. not an entry-level job), but my standard of living is worse now than it was ten years ago. Ergo, it’s started to feel like I exist solely to make the wealthy richer. Life: what’s in it for me?
One of the perks of my job is the deep discount I get on outdoor gear. As a result, I sometimes dress like a rich asshole. I have an Arc’teryx hardshell, for fuck’s sake. I always feel a little embarrassed complaining about being poor while wearing it, but at least I never feel wet.
The latest addition to my rich asshole accoutrements landed on my doorstep yesterday. I used Zack/Jordi’s unit number as I wasn’t sure I’d receive my order before moving. They live next door, after all. I figured Zack kindly transferred the parcel to my doorstep as Jordi would’ve handed it to me in person.
Zack denied doing such a thing but applauded me for being smart enough to use his address as the ship-to. Does this mean the postfolk knows my name? Or was it a lucky error?
I finally own a pair of douchebag roadie sunglasses. They supposedly provide aero gains–I’m not so sure I’m going to shave a few seconds off my best times wearing them instead of my corny (but cute!) heart-shaped sunglasses, or the green cat eye designer shades that I’ve had forever. I’m more certain of their ability to make drivers hate me even more.