A friend of mine posted on facebook recently about a particularly bad day that ended with “and I couldn’t even go home because my cleaning lady was there.” She then made a joke about having “first world problems,” at which I had to laugh even though I didn’t really understand–is there some ettiquette thing about being in the house with the help? Being that, socially, I’m more closer to being “the help” than than the Lord of The Manor or whatever, I still think I’d want to be around to, you know, keep an eye on the silver candlesticks and the liquor cabinet (okay, we have a shelf in the pantry, but still….)
That really has little to do with my post (big surprise, eh?) except for the concept of “first world problems.” And speaking of first world problems, thousands of people who must be living really, really dull lives are all worked up about a Columbian women’s bicycle team and their new uniforms. I myself have no comment beyond a snort and a shake of my head.