Happiness for Sale

With the New Year almost here, I’m working on my budget for the coming months and beyond. Puzzling out how to rob Peter to pay Paul is always an interesting exercise in financial gymnastics.

I know I’ve mentioned this before but trust me when I say that I have definite plans already in mind for when I win the lottery. Oh sure, I’ll pay off my debt and help my family blah blah blah. But I’d also be on the first plane to Ireland, England, or Italy (hey, I’m not picky) and everyone I know that isn’t a close friend or important blood relative would never see me again. More importantly, I’d set myself up in a quaint little cottage boasting a library with wall-to-ceiling bookshelves and one in particular that moved (à la Scooby Doo) to reveal a decked-out room where I could hide from the world in peace… and luxury.

I wonder why more rich people haven’t considered the old secret bookshelf hideaway. Well, I guess if their secret “hideaway” was done properly, we as the general population wouldn’t know anything about it. Perhaps I missed the MTV Cribs episode where George Clooney shows us what’s behind his secret bookshelf door.

Oh sure, “money can’t buy happiness.” I’m always amused when folks say this. I mean, yeah, perhaps that’s true, but to truly know, I’d first have to land on a ton of cash. Then I could give you a definitive answer. Personally, I think it’s just something rich people say to keep the lower classes from rioting. Money may not be able to buy happiness, but it can buy groceries and medical care and secret bookshelf rooms, and that’s pretty much the same thing.


Late Night Thoughts

You know, during the work week, I am tired as anything, but as Sunday evening rolls around and the dreaded Monday is on the horizon, I am wide awake. Go figure. It’s to the point of “okay, if I can just fall asleep now, that’s five hours, and I’m good with five hours, right? Right?” And no, I’m not good with five hours. Not good at all. But the countdown hasn’t stopped, so it’s hard telling how many hours of slumber I’ll actually get in.

But as I lay here, not sleeping, my brain is on overdrive. Here’s a question for you folks that is weighing on my mind. Now, it’s weighing on yours. Welcome to my world.

Just what the hell is Bugs Bunny shaving??