The right to Starbucks

Fall rain makes that lasting taste of coffee on your mouth much sweeter than it actually is. I have the car keys tonight. I also have the radio blasting nothings, and tiny drops of rain wetting my mascaraed lashes. The bookstore is quiet and lifeless on this late evening. I am consuming caffeine, but am not particularly tired. Fridays are my days off, though they weren’t supposed to be. I purposely scheduled my Fridays free so I could work, but ever since I stopped the useless job-haunt, they’ve now turned into a beautiful addition of my weekend. I probably sound way more middle-class than I actually am. But really I’m just a broke college kid with zero dollars in savings. I live with my parents so I can avoid rent and get free food from my mother. I have no right to be picky about finding a mediocre job that pays 9 or 10 dollars an hour. I have no right to complain about newspapers who don’t want to hire an amateur/journalist-wannabe. I shouldn’t be taking Salsa lessons on Thursday nights at the Dance Factory worth a 63 dollar check I never had.
I don’t know what gives me the right to drink Starbucks and not think about who’ll pay in the end. I like to think I’m not spoiled, but what I am if not spoiled? Why did I stop the job-haunt? Was it that impossible to find work? Or is it just that I like being able to think and listen to music on a 24/7 basis and exercise?
I should start looking again. I should be a better citizen…

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