In Which I’m More Fortunate Than I Usually Realize

I’ve been trying to find a job recently and haven’t been successful yet, so I’m spending a lot of time sitting almost broke and bored in my house. I can start to pity myself and think about how bad my life is right now. But my God, that’s such a wrong way to see things.

In Egypt right now people are getting beaten, burned, and stabbed because they’re fighting for something I have in America without even asking for it, the ability to choose a leader in an open election. These protests are spreading across the Middle East, all starting from a single college student’s willingness to set himself on fire because he was so fed up with the economy and corruption in Tunisia. Here in America I’m getting frustrated because the economy is bad enough I can’t immediately find a job in a single day, and I still have food, shelter, and family. I am not starving, I have a safe house to sleep in every night, and I am able to spend time with family and dear friends pretty much any time I want. I am physically and mentally healthy. I’m also typing this on my own laptop, watching television, and own a car without having to make payments on it. I am a comparatively rich white male with an advanced college degree, the most privileged type of person in the entire world.

How the hell can I get depressed and feel sorry for myself when this is the case? How terrible of me to not understand my privileged place in the world. But I’m trying to always be more thankful, I really am.

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