Friday. I cleaned my room and washed my bed sheets and comforter. That felt pretty good. Otherwise nothing much. I went out to dinner with my dad. We discussed health insurance. I hate health insurance, I hate sickness and hospitals and insurance companies. I think insurance companies and hospitals have some kind of evil partnership where they milk people for as much money as they possibly can. Well, of course they do.

I was watching Oprah and the topic was the issue of class. Hate to admit it but you can usually tell what "class" people are in by the way they dress and the way they talk. It kind of makes you aware of your own prejudices. Like I'm from the Westside of El Paso, the supposed snobby side of town, and I didn't ever think that about myself as that but then you go to other sections of the city and you realize, wow, this is really different from where I grew up. Do I look down on other people just because they are poor, make generalizations, etc.? I try not to, but sometimes I catch myself doing it.

And then I start thinking about money, or lack thereof. I mean, if I stayed at the job I have now and tried to survive on my own, I would be poor. I would be living in a poor neighborhood. If I had kids they would go to schools a cut below the nice schools I went to. I wouldn't be able to afford to buy nice things for myself, clothes and haircuts and shoes. It scares me to be poor, more than I like to admit. At my age I shouldn't be afraid to be poor if I believe in what I'm doing, I should be confident I can work my way up the ladder eventually. But I'm still afraid of having to make serious sacrifices and not having the luxuries I'm used to having, you know?