When I was in college, I worked as a housekeeper for a handicapped law student. Twice a week, I would drop by and do laundry, dust, vacuum, wash the dishes, and accompany him to buy groceries.
I bring this up because I suddenly remembered him today. He was a poor cook. His diet consist mainly of frozen dinners and mountain dew. Right before Thanksgiving, he told me to stock up on a few Hungryman turkey dinners. He planned to spend his Thanksgiving studying, eating his Hungryman dinner, sipping a little whiskey, and putting himself to bed.
Upon hearing his plans, I felt a drop of pity for him. It was quickly pushed aside by my own plans.
I thought of him today because had it not been for the fabulous feast provided at work, I might be spending Thanksgiving in a very similar fashion. I don't feel badly about working; I chose to work. The place is festive. Everyone is smiling and jolly. I don't feel sad at all.