Materialism

I'm going to write about something personal now, so prepare to squirm.

I never thought I'd be a rat race guy. When you're a teenager and know everything, it's all so obvious that money isn't everything, what you do for a living isn't who you are, money can't buy happiness etc etc. What you can't understand is just how defining and resistance-crushing working every day for your money is.

So I piss my dunkets away on holidays, expensive food and little geeky gadgets. And does it make me happy? Hell no.

I guess I thought I was over the whole existential thing when I hit my 20s, but I was just putting it away for a few years while I got together some money for eating and whatnot. Suddenly the fact that all I really do is earn money and try to get fit seems like a pretty paltry existence.

So am I going to shave my head and join the Hare Krishnas, or go to the Congo as a humanitarian aid worker or some such? Hell no.

Anyway, I just got a NetFlix membership, so that should make me happy.