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I’m a master of denial. For one reason or another, I’ve become accustomed to disappointments over the last decade or so. Maybe longer. Denial has become my way of dealing with things I didn’t think I could control.

I was reminded of that again Friday evening when I unintentionally recorded some video of myself from the side. My MacBook was recording and Lucy wanted to jump into my lap for attention. I turned to let her jump up while she happily licked my face. I thought the video of her might be cute. But then I looked at it.

I know I need to shed some weight right now, but I walk around in denial about it most of the time. I’m about 25 pounds less than the worst I’d let myself get — maybe 35 pounds now that I think about it — but I still need to get rid of about 80 pounds of excess fat.

When I looked at that video of Lucy and me, every one of those 80 pounds seemed to be visible — and every one of them seemed to be taunting me.

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Andrew was enthusiastic when he heard I’d made my first video using footage from a drone, so he wanted to watch it. After seeing the three-and-a-half-minute video, he was gushing about how cool it was. But he wanted to know how to make such a video himself.

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Do they just have a button and it flies around and decides what to shoot for itself? Is that music just added automatically?”

The questions were shockingly ignorant. I was offended. Just a little. He thought I just pushed a button? He thought the drone did the work? He didn’t think I struggled to make this? He thought it was easy?

Let me back up.

About six months ago, the real estate company where I work bought a drone for me to learn to use. It seemed as though it would be fun and we could use it for high-end property listings. I fooled around with it for a few weeks, but then I got busy doing other things. I hadn’t touched it for four months.

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Nothing about this couple suggests affluence. His arms are covered with tattoos. They both appear shabbily dressed. Their speech doesn’t suggest much education. The car in which they arrived isn’t very new or impressive.

But as I watch them interact with each other and their son — who’s about 2 years old — I’m struck by how happy they seem to be as they eat together in this restaurant.

They both interact tenderly and lovingly with their son. When the man gets up to get a drink refill, he pauses to kiss the woman on the forehead — and she smiles in love.

I can’t know how much money they make, of course, but everything in my experience with such people suggests it wouldn’t be much. I’d be surprised if they made more than $40,000 combined. Maybe $50,000. I’m just guessing, of course.

But I’m thinking about this because of an article that NPR published today lamenting how difficult it can be to have enough money if you make $100,000 or more a year. It details the horrors of four individuals or families struggling with incomes of $100,000 or more.

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