I knew a person that made a lot of money. And I mean a lot of money.
Left home at six in the morning, 5 days of the week, returned home after nine in the evening. Tons of benefits. Company car. Monthly and travel expenses. Cellphone. Computer. Tools and equipment. Uniform and safety gear for required context.
Divorced three times. Wasn’t around to be a parent for 3 children. Lost family and friends to favor work and career. One day, woke up old, alone and miserable but on any way used to measure it, very rich.
Spent the last decade of life spending money in an atempt to fill the void of not having a person of significance in the world.
Money didn’t bought or even rented happiness. It bought cars, cruises, hookers and enough alcohol to fill an olympic swimming pool. But happiness? Out of stock.