The Money Scramble, i.e., No Joy in Mudville

Yeah, I’m scrambling for words today. I’m also scrambling for money.

A good friend is staying the night. She lives outside of Mexico, and I haven’t seen her in at least five years. I love her, she loves me.

You know, you want to put the proverbial best foot forward, not have drama to have a sweet catch-up session. I’m gonna try to keep my head quiet.

But that looks like that will be a full-time job today.

Which annoys me with myself, because this friend is about as accepting as friends get.

If your spouse/partner’s been deported, and you live with them, I can pretty much guarantee that you’re the main breadwinner.

On a day like today, I’m angry about that.

My privilege, i.e, my formal education, English being my first language, my ability to possibly earn dollars even though I’m in the Global South, I want to just put that damn privilege package down today.

Due to a whole bunch of economic and political reasons, right now the money scramble is my scramble.

I’m keepin’ it real today, people. I’m keepin’ it real.


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