Sometimes....

Sometimes, you feel pretty good about life. You have a job, a place to live and a decent car. You feel like things are moving up, like you've got the elements in place and if you just keep at it, you're going to finally have it made, kiddo.

And then you're at the bank and you see a homeless woman sitting amidst the melting snow on the floor of the lobby with what you assume are all her worldly possessions spread around her, staring intently into a compact and trying to cover up the signs of a life hard-lived with heavy amounts of blush and eyeshadow. It's clear from first glance she doesn't have a lot of dignity in her life, but she'll be damned if this last little thing, this little way of making herself feel better, gets taken from her.

And that, right there, kind of makes you feel selfish and myopic for worrying so much about your own life instead of the general human condition (which could always use a little spiffing up, in your opinion).