Impoverished and hungry, I sat down tonight and ate a can of spinach for dinner. I did this because it was all I had. With $24 in my checking account and $118 due to my car insurance ompany before I get paid again, purchasing more, different or better food is simply not an option.

Eating my spinach, I thought about how I ended up in this situation. The root cause of all my frivolous spending, my self-indulgene and my misery always traces bac to a man. Without my previous fiance, I would theoretically not have had the opportunity to spend the $12,000 my grandmother left me in less than six months. Without the disaster-ogre that followed him, I would have saved thousands of dollars on groceries, going out to dinner, cmaping and camping gear, and unappreciated gifts. Even The Fling is partially to balme; $150 wasted on him and his family after just two months of casually seeing one another.

Without these men in my life, who never seem to give as much as I do, I realize that I still wouldn't be wealth. However, I would't be disowned, miserable, and eatig canned spinach on my broken futon after obtaining a professional degree. I wouldn't be staring at a TV for which I cannot afford cable, nor pondering how I will entertain myself when I read all the boks on my bookshelf.

Fuck the men; let's drink to us.