When I was young, I saved pennies, nickels, dimes, and (oh brilliant joy at my good fortune!) sometimes quarters for my future in College.
I still remember my bliss when I reached ten dollars -- twenty dollars -- fifty dollars. An unimaginable amount.
On harrowing days, when I am facing stressful deadlines, I go to a coffeeshop, relax with a drink, and write for several hours. A hot chocolate costs $1.75. A small fortune passes easily from my hands.
Each time I go to a coffeeshop and come back empty-handed, I am sneering in the face of a little boy who carefully, anxiously, honestly saved his precious pennies, nickels, and dimes for the unknown future I live today.
America has made me soft. I have allowed myself to become soft. Ease and comfort are addictions, the insatiable fodder of ungrateful amnesiacs.