My wife called from Thailand. Mam needed money for Fenway’s school. I told her that I’d sent some in the morning, which wasn’t quick enough and she started crying about having married an artist.
“I’m not an artist. I”m a failed writer.”
Artists are just as poor in Thailand as they are in the USA, unless you’re a big star and I’m not even a 40 watt lightbulb.
Of course I didn’t say I was a failure.
That ‘nah sia’ or loss of face would have sealed her opinion about artists.
Sometimes the best truth is the one you never say.