Over the weekend, a friend of mine and I were discussing a mutual acquaintance. My friend mentioned she thought it was sad so many people were jealous of our acquaintance, which I found to be odd. The general consensus on our acquiantance is that people aren’t so much jealous as annoyed. The possession of money — serious, big time money — doesn’t make me jealous. Would it be nice to have it? Absolutely. Is it necessary? No. Here’s the thing: I love working. I love knowing that I have worked for everything I have; it makes me appreciate what I have. What fun is life if you’re just handed everything? Why would someone be jealous of that? Why would someone want that?
Girls who can eat anything they want and not work out and not gain an ounce make me jealous. Girls who can roll out of bed and look fabulous make me jealous. Girls who can wear anything because they don’t have monster hips make me jealous. Girls who have wonderful boyfriends who want to marry them make me jealous. Girls who have money and don’t have to work for anything, though? They just make me sad.
I might not be able to eat anything I want without having to run twelve miles or be able to roll out of bed and look beautiful or wear skinny jeans (never, never, never) or have a perfect-for-me boyfriend, but I have pretty much everything I need, and I know I deserve it. And that … that is good enough for now.
