of worry. And you hate dealing with me.
And no matter what I do, it’s never
enough. One minute you act like you’ll
die without me, and the next I make you
feel like a filthy whore. You know what?
I’m done. See you later, freak.
Considering that this, or some
version of this, is the sort of relationship
most people have with money, I don’t
think the question is: “Why can’t we
make the kind of money we want?” I
think the better question is: “How the
hell do we expect to?” Most people
have such conflicted feelings around
money that they turn it into a full-on
circus, rivaled only by the equally
popular freak shows surrounding