Ah payday, my favourite time of the month. Nothing better than checking your bank balance and seeing that those numbers have risen above double digits for the first time in weeks. You imagine yourself as the next Wolf of Wall Street as you stare longingly at your bank statement. However, does this seemingly infinite wealth bring you happiness?
Lets look at it this way, there is nothing that makes you more miserable than being broke. For those of you who are attending University currently, you'll know what I'm talking about. Every day I wake up wondering where my next meal will be coming from, and what horrendous, unspoken things I'll have to do to earn money for it. Basically, food=happiness, so if money can get you food, surely money makes you happy?
Wrong. The thought of money and food takes me back to my summer days. Just this July I went on holiday with my friends to Zante with the sole intention of drinking myself into a gutter every night. I arrived in Zante feeling like a billionaire, with a glorious 800 euros in my pocket. Only the second day in and trying to recover from a colossal hangover, I go into a Subway and, being the gluttonous pig that I am, order a footlong with every meat included. This awful choice of meats not only took a sizeable chunk out of my funds, but left me with bowel movements prescribed to me by Satan himself, and let me tell you, experiencing a combination of booze, a boat party with one toilet on board, and the shits, is not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.
With this in mind, the only conclusion I can make is that no, money does not make me happy. In fact, money is the cause of mass embarrassment to me, and my bowels. From now on I shall no longer complain about eating cereal three times a day to survive. Eat Fresh, kids.
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