My mother had a peculiar script inside her head that would determine
good deal from charity, which she would be too prideful to accept.

For example, scholarships I received to attend a private university
were a good deal. Money for college based on my scholarly endeavors.

However, financial aid in general, charity and gd-it if we were
charity cases. Instead of helping me by sending in the paperwork the
semester I was in Europe, she clipped more coupons and otherwise came
up with the needed cake herself.

Today, I involuntary lived inside her head for some indeterminate
moments. The snacks and beverages at work, good deal (although Pat’s
voice tells me not to let anyone see me taking "too much"). However,
the free tampon I just snagged in the women’s room felt like charity.=20
Like somehow, you don’t want the boss subsidizing your body.