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An excerpt from "How To Lead a Rich Life":
"One of the more shocking measures of our "prosperity" is the fact that the United States spends more on trash bags than 90 other countries spend on everything. In other words, the receptacles of our waste cost more than all of the goods consumed by nearly half of the world's nations."
It occurs to me that between my roommate and me, we do make just about $120,000 a year (pre-tax, of course), pushing our "household" income just barely past that of an average reader of Fast Company. But this guy is right, I don't feel rich at all (although, fortunately, I've never felt the need to), even as I pull yet another brand-new, spic'n'span trash bag from my cabinet and gingerly shove it into my kitchen receptacle bin (this is, clearly, not my favorite chore).
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Another excerpt from the same:
"As it turns out, by the time we get to be our grandmother's age, we'll be happier anyway. That's because happiness over any given lifetime looks like a big U-curve. "You start out thinking that you're going to conquer the world," says Oswald. "Then you discover that it's tough out there and become dissatisfied. Happiness levels tend to bottom out around 30. Eventually, after 5 or 10 years, you come to terms with yourself. You learn to control your aspirations. After you've done that, it's easier to get steadily happier again."
But don't they see, the idea I cannot stand right now, the root cause of all of my unhappiness, is that some day soon I may actually "come to terms with myself"??
I refuse, I vehemently refuse. Ask me in 10 years, you'll see.
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Update: Ah...so what I am is an influential. Tee hee...another label to call myself by.
Going to the Met tonight for songs of Camille, my favorite courtesan of all time even after the emergence of yelping Satine...