Lock Every Door

by Riley Sager

Every so often, life offers you a reset button. When it does, you need to press it as hard as you can.

Because here’s the thing about being poor—most people don’t understand it unless they’ve been there themselves.

That’s another thing most people don’t understand—how quick others are to judge. And make assumptions. And presume your financial predicament is the result of stupidity, laziness, years of bad choices.

I’m a dime a dozen, and everyone is looking for a quarter.

Never take anything you haven’t earned, my father used to say. You always end up paying for it one way or another.

“Remember” by Christina Rossetti. Seeing it causes a slight hiccup in my chest. My heart skipping a single beat. I know this poem. It was read at my parents’ funeral. Remember me when I am gone away.

She’s fascinating in the same way tornadoes are fascinating. You want to see how much they’re going to spin.

Because here’s something else no one understands unless they’ve been there: unemployment is boring. Soul-crushingly so. People have no idea how much of their day is taken up by the act of going to work. The getting ready. The commute there. The eight hours at your desk. The commute home. So much time automatically occupied. Take them away and there’s nothing but empty hours stretching before you, waiting to be filled. Kill time before it kills you.

One time is an anomaly. Two times is a coincidence. Three times is proof.

I’m the kind of girl you don’t want to fuck with.