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A sort of A few weeks ago, a self-isolating family asked me if I could represent them in a community center food program. It is operated by Your Local Pantry in approximately 50 locations in the UK and allows low-income families to use the heart and diamond system to buy food that would otherwise be wasted at a discount (you can get a certain amount of food per person). It’s simple, when There is no need for impromptu math or fright when the bill is higher than expected and the customer must retrieve the item in front of the people waiting in line.
(To this day, my most exciting, long live eldest sister’s moment is yelling at someone complaining about waiting to pay for the crossword book. “I will give you a clue,” I fired. “Five Letters, this is what What the rose has-and you are.” I didn’t remember until the next day that the rose had thorns, not thorns. Damn it!)
There is a lot to say in this matter—that is, food poverty is terrible, and food waste is piled up like a mountain—but my mind has been hovering in the euphemism of heart and diamonds, and I say “I don’t have diamonds anymore”, and Not “I have no money.”
Is there anything harder to talk about than money? Are there any taboos so deeply ingrained?I thought I was taboo immune, a superpower that had studied in the bad Asian daughter zone for many years (see: Talking about “embarrassing” things as an unmarried woman, such as sex, anxiety, and I’m really grateful Danny Dell).
But when I tried to tell a good friend how much money I had in my account with exact numbers-instead of vague words like “good or slow months”-I felt my heart beat faster, my skin felt cold, and words Choking taboo in the cold palm.
It seems that my work is not over yet. I encountered my taboo final boss. Talking about money, maybe our biggest opponent.
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