Living in Los Angeles, it’s so hard not to feel inadequate. There’s always someone richer, younger, more attractive, with more influence. Just today, I spotted a woman from my ballet class opening the door to her huge, black Mercedes. (It’s not the car I coveted but the financial freedom, or so I imagined in my fantasy of her situation.) But of course, the opposite is true, too. And what does that have to do with a meaningful life, anyway? Or so I tell myself, when envy rises.
Image by Adrienne Benitez
Discussion
No comments for “Not Going to Go There”