The trouble with having rich (ish) parents and a lot of friends who also came from rich (ish-to-OMG YOU ARE SO FREAKING LOADED) families is that when blogging gets you fired from your day job, it really elicits no sympathy. You encounter a lot of laughter, followed by the inevitable: "Oh well, that job was wayyyyyy too corporate and boring for you anyway. You should really focus on the PR gigs. Or writing. Or ... art. Something. Maybe you should go abroad?" Trying to explain your vehement refusal to seek monetary assistance from said rich (ish) parents (not to mention their aversion to 'giving' any) as well as the daunting student loan debt you incurred between 2000-2004 due to said mutual aversions generally proves pretty fruitless.
The trouble with having rich (ish) parents and a handful of post-collegiate friends who grew up under circumstances at the opposite end of the spectrum is that when blogging gets you fired from your day job, attempting to discuss the matter with certain individuals can result in something resembling hostility, as said post-collegiate friends begin screaming over your woes about their broken homes and the times they had to sell their bodies or at least their dvd collections after being fired from a job and OMG princess you have NO IDEA.
The trouble with having rich (ish) parents is that when blogging gets you fired from your day job, you realize everyone is right but you. As you struggle to maintain your pride in the face of your mounting debt and lacking food-of-the-non-carbohydrate-with-a-shelf-life variety, you slowly convince yourself that fleeing your adult life for the comfort of your childhood bedroom (its current state as an unrecognizable guest room notwithstanding) and accepting payment equal to the week's worth of work for which you obviously just did not receive pay to paint an addition to your rich (ish) parents house are suddenly actions you can justify and live with. Your friends with the trust funds nod approvingly and those with the self-described blue collars smirk knowingly.
You stop answering the phone as you struggle to get the paint out of your hair (have you ever painted a ceiling? OMG.) while trolling craiglist for gainful employment of any type. You can't meet the eyes of the girls in your favorite hometown coffee shop as they start to anticipate your daily trips (mom's 'treat' - god knows iced coffee is NOT a luxury you can afford on your own at the moment). You spend a questionable amount of time telling the cat how qualified you are to be ruling the world but DAMMIT THE MAN IS KEEPING YOU DOWN.
And worst of all, the trouble with having rich (ish) parents is that a week after blogging gets you fired from your day job and your shoulders are starting to ache from all the painting and you've convinced yourself that your sheer artistic brilliance is really being squandered by the menial task of broad brush strokes in yosemite sand, you find yourself turning to your rich (ish) dad and demanding: "Really, dad. WHY couldn't you have just set me up with a trust?"
"Well, honey, we did. But we spent it."
The trouble with having rich (ish) parents is that when blogging gets you fired from your day job, you not only have to deal with the fact that you're flat broke, but also that you're just like them.
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