I put on golden sandals and a burgundy fluffy robe
and decided to pretend to be one of the idle rich.
I teetered around the drafty old house with a martini in one hand
and a cigarette in the other
There was nothing underneath my robe.
I sloshed and slathered and screamed and cried and had multiple fits regarding my sense of entitlement.
I was told my expectations were much too high.
I re-thought my position and considered myself quite lucky after all.
I still cried, but when it was time to stop I put away my pen
and paper and got up and made a baloney sandwich.