“Your grandpa has three hundred forty-two thousand dollars?” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. “And he eats beans and hot dogs.”

Another coworker, Marcus, leaned back in his chair and snorted.

“Okay, but did he also buy a house for twelve dollars and a handshake?” he said.

A few people chuckled.

My face got hot, because I could already see where this was going.

Jenna pointed her straw at me.

“I’m just saying,” she said, “old people love to pretend it was all discipline. Like there weren’t pensions, cheap healthcare, affordable housing, and… you know… a world that didn’t charge you a fee to breathe.”

Someone else chimed in.

“And a job that didn’t make you answer emails at midnight,” another person said.

“And no subscription economy,” Marcus added. “Back then you bought a thing and it was yours. Now everything is rent.”

People started talking over each other, and the breakroom turned into a miniature internet comment section.

Boomers had it easy.

No they didn’t, interest rates were high.

Wages were lower.

Housing was cheaper.

Inflation vs wage stagnation.

Student debt.

Healthcare.

Tipping fatigue.

It was like everyone had been carrying this argument around in their pocket, waiting for an excuse to pull it out.

And there I was, holding my plain office coffee like a peace offering.

I could feel both sides of it tugging at me.

Because Frank wasn’t wrong about me bleeding money on convenience.

But my coworkers weren’t wrong about the world being different.

The problem was… people didn’t want a nuanced conversation.

They wanted a villain.

They wanted a winner.

They wanted a simple story where you could point at one thing and say, That’s why.

Jenna looked at me with this half-smile.

“So what are you doing now?” she asked.

I shrugged.

“I canceled some stuff,” I said. “Deleted some apps.”

Marcus clapped slowly.

“Look at you,” he said. “You’re cured. You’re gonna own a house by Friday.”

A couple people laughed.

I forced a smile, but it stung.

Because there it was—right in front of me—the most controversial truth nobody wants to admit:

We use these ‘treats’ because we’re stressed, and we’re stressed because we’re broke, and we’re broke partly because of the treats.

It’s a loop.

And everyone is either too ashamed or too angry to talk about it without turning it into a war.

Later, at my desk, I couldn’t focus.

My brain kept replaying Frank’s line:

Are you a man or a mood?