And my money on my mind. Snoop Dogg notwithstanding, this is not a position to which I aspire:
I imagine being rich is kind of a pain in the ass. Yes, I know, somebody famous once said “I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor and being rich is better,” but you have to constantly be thinking about your money and what you should be doing with it, where you should invest it, who is trying to steal it. Now some people might take to that kind of agonizing like a duck to water, they might actually enjoy it. Me, I find it tedious and boring. Fortunately there are things like Mutual Funds that remove most of the day to day agony.
Being rich requires paying attention to your money. Stop paying attention and all that money will wander off. And what do you do with a billion dollars anyway? I mean after you’ve bought your fancy car, boat, house, airplane? You invest it in something that you hope will make more money.
I’m not at all suited to these things. If I showed up on the Forbes 400 at, say, #399, I’d presumably have to start thinking about how I avoid dropping off the list next year. Perhaps fortunately, this is not going to be a problem for me, inasmuch as I have a mortgage and a lot of nerve damage and a five-figure net worth, well short of the $1.7 billion it takes to make the 400 these days. At least, I can console myself, it’s five figures on the positive side of the ledger. (It wasn’t always.)