Being Poor Sucks

Being poor means not being able to take a better job because the shift ends are after the busses stop running, and you don’t feel safe walking the two miles home after dark.

Being poor means learning firsthand the meaning of words like “eviction,” “garnishee,” “repossess,” and “transient motel.”

Being poor means paying the special poor taxes—parking tickets for the old car in disrepair on the street because you have no other place to put it, fines for the busted taillight or the expired license, fees for cashing the government check, and so on.

Being poor means paying a premium on food and goods at local stores that jack up prices for being in a poor neighborhood, or simply because they can.

Being poor means buying bread at the “day old store” even though it’s a lot older than one day.

Being poor means paying high prices for exprired meat at the bodega, because there isn’t a supermarket chain willing to open a store in your neighborhood.

Being poor means your 10 cent an hour raise is almost negated by the 25 cent increase in bus fare.

Being poor means watching your disabled child get worse and worse because you can’t afford the therapies.

Being poor means having your life gone over with a fine tooth comb to see if you’re bad enough to help.

Being not poor means realizing you still can’t afford the thereapy, and there’s no ‘help’ because you’re not poor.

Being poor is feeling ashamed when your ‘peers’ slam WalMart, and talk about buying organic, and the horrors of driving gass-guzzling cars, all while wondering why you repeatedly find ways to not join them at $15/plate social dinners.

Being poor is avoiding spending time with people you care about, because you don’t want to have to answer “how are you doing?”.

Being poor is having to explain to your friends why all the food in your house has a welfare organisations logo on the packaging.

Being poor is having your best friend’s mother compliment her for hanging out with you–shows good moral fiber, don’t you know.

Being poor is having your mum scrimp and save to get you the latest “in” thing, just as it goes out of style. (But you wear it anyway, so she doesn’t feel bad, and then all the kids at school make fun of you.)

Being poor is being the family that everybody knows it’s okay to pick on.

Being poor is having your house egged and a firecracker tossed through your front door because some kid thought it was funny.

Being poor is losing your special lunch card and seeing the snotty kid across the street find it, chop it up with scissors, and return the pieces to you.

Being poor is getting one box of sugar cereal on your birthday, and a package of chocolate mix for Xmas.

Being poor is one meal a day, if that.

Being poor is worrying about appendicitis every time you ovulate.

Being poor means going to a church school on a Pell grant and trying to get your associate degree in one year, because you know your sibs are close on your tail, and your family has barely enough money to send you.

Being poor means even with a scholarship, you can’t go to Art Center.

Being poor is always walking.

Being poor is everything gets washed by hand in the bathtub with the smallest amount of dollar-store detergent.

Being poor means saved up bacon grease for re-use.

Being poor means saved up tea bags for re-use.

Being poor means drinking hot water, when those teabags finally lose all their flavor.

Being poor means choosing between a cup of coffee, a newspaper, or a load at the laundrymat. You can’t have all three, or even two of them. ever.

Being poor means always the library, never the book store.

Being poor is everything must be mended, pinned, taped, glued or stapled for a little more use.

Being poor means two or three jobs, and never enough time, sleep, or money. never.

Being poor is eating no-brand hotdogs and the cheap ramen every day for two months because otherwise you couldn’t afford formula for the baby.

Being poor is really, really pushing your two-year old during potty training, because diapers are really, really expensive.

Being poor means that the $50.00 subtraction screw-up in balancing the checkbook throws you into a year-long spiral of out-of-control debt and bounced check fees.

Being poor means you sign every single free credit application that comes in the mail, and use the 28% cash advance checks to get cash with which you can pay the electric bill, and then wait for the next set to pay the new ones off.

Being poor means you use the money your in-laws send your kid for his birthday to buy peanut butter and pay the pediatrician.

Being poor means that you bring a bag of potato chips to every family gathering as your dish to pass.

Being poor means that you laugh hysterically when you watch the financial planning segments on the Today Show, because the thought of starting a college fund for your child is so far beyond the pale that if you don’t laugh, you’ll start to cry and you’ll never stop.

Being poor means that three years after you’re not poor anymore, you still know exactly what everything costs; you still feel like a dinner at Chili’s or even Wendy’s is a huge splurge; and you still feel like you can’t afford to buy a six dollar belt at Target. And you still buy ramen.

Being poor is feeling like a failure every time you and your father discuss your “financial restructuring” because neither of you wants to say the word “bankruptcy.”

Being poor is obviously your fault, even though the biggest, fattest reason you had to file bankruptcy in the first place was because your husband frivolously got cancer while laid off. How silly of him! And then he couldn’t find a new job until he was done with treatment because oddly, employers are shy of hiring bald, vomiting people with IV ports taped into their arms.

Being poor is being horrified when you see a very young person from your area with an arm, neck, or hand tattoo, not because corporate America generally bans such things… but because fast-food and retail America does, too.

Being poor is being bumped by somebody carrying a Prada tote bag on your way to pick up your paycheck… and instantly realizing, without having to calculate, that in terms of actual cash value, the tote bag is worth far more than the paycheck.

Being poor is feeling like a failure every time you and your father discuss your “financial restructuring” because neither of you wants to say the word “bankruptcy.”

Being poor is obviously your fault, even though the biggest, fattest reason you had to file bankruptcy in the first place was because your husband frivolously got cancer while laid off. How silly of him! And then he couldn’t find a new job until he was done with treatment because oddly, employers are shy of hiring bald, vomiting people with IV ports taped into their arms.

Being poor is being horrified when you see a very young person from your area with an arm, neck, or hand tattoo, not because corporate America generally bans such things… but because fast-food and retail America does, too.

Being poor is being bumped by somebody carrying a Prada tote bag on your way to pick up your paycheck… and instantly realizing, without having to calculate, that in terms of actual cash value, the tote bag is worth far more than the paycheck.

(Source: secrethomeincome.0fees.net)