This month's Esquire magazine (Jeff Daniels is on the cover) contains a real throat punch of an essay from Cleveland writer John Hyduk which says more about me than I probably want you to know. I'd link to it here, but it appears to be magazine only. It's well worth the price, though.
This was the paragraph that spoke the loudest to me:
"You tote a lot more to work in a lunch pail than Ring Dings. You pack alimony and autism diagnoses and car notes and the rest of the workingman's grind. Baby needs a new pair of shoes. Also braces, a better school, and a down payment on that spring field trip. And you chew whatever has been dumped on your plate in silence. You don't go into therapy. You go to work."