If I Were a Rich Girl YadaDadadadadadadadaDUM

Yesterday I had dinner with some friends from the South Loop of Chicago. They have this balcony that overlooks a kitchy old watertower, and a tiny garden, and clean sidewalks surrounding their front gate, and as I drove away I realized they could bike to Buckingham Fountain or walk to the beach or just trot on up the Magnificent Mile. I mean, okay, granted, yesterday was a really beautiful May day, so I could have probably looked at a roach in the proper light and found a sort of perfection, but f'real, I just fell in love with their home, and I had a thought that is very foreign to me:

I want to be very rich.

Pookie's first morning on her AZ visit. She woke up, and I handed her an envelope dad had sent us. It was stuffed fulla 2s.

I never wish to be rich. In fact, a lot of the time I actually thank God I am NOT very rich because I feel like I personally would have a lot of guilt-based issues if I were very rich. I already DO have a lot of guilt-based issues and I am kind of the antithesis of very rich. Still, its a lot of wear and tear on my Jimminy Cricket that I have to wonder if I hadn't ordered the 60 cent almond flavoring for my coffee last night, if I would have had a dollar for that homeless man across the street from the funeral parlor and Too Much Light theatre.

Also, I never think about being very rich because the things I generally really want don't require me to be so. You probably think I mean, like, love or something, but I really just mean that Reese's cups cost a dollar. ALSO, I never think about being very rich because it's just not bloody likely. Look at me. I'm getting a degree in playwriting. Pfft, yeah, OHKAY, I think I'll count my millions in the next lifetime.

But, yesterday, walking through the park of little yuppy kids of this fancypants neighborhood on their Cars 2 bikes, I did want to be very rich. I get it.

See, I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl.