Sunday Scaries (n): The Sunday evening dread that creeps in when anticipating work in the morning.
Shut down Sunday Scaries with this series: Sunday Sharies! These are the articles, links, and content I’ve read this week that I think are worth sharing.
The Unexpected Benefit of Earning Less Money Each Year (Financial Panther)
A higher income is good. But that higher income can sometimes act as golden handcuffs. If you’re paid too much, it’s often not easy to make the move to something that you maybe want to do. If I’d managed to stay in biglaw, who knows. This blog might not exist. I’d be making too much money to get out.
How To Insulate Yourself From Advertisements (Bitches Get Riches)
I’m having a bad day at work and here comes an email from H&M, making me think my day sucks because I’m wearing the same old blazer I’ve had for two years. F*ck that. I’m actually having a bad day because Nancy is an evil, petty woman who rules her team with fear, and I am the champion of light destined to destroy her, but heroes gotta experience some setbacks to make things exciting. At no point do blazers enter into this discussion, H&M! UN. SUB. SCRIBE.
The High Price of Being Single in America (The Atlantic)
When we calculated how much money our characters gained or lost altogether, our single women did indeed fare worse—much worse—than the married women. Their lifetime cost of being single?
Our lower-earning woman paid $484,368 for being single. Our higher-earning woman paid $1,022,096: more than a million dollars just for being single.
Casualties of Perfection (Morgan Housel on Collaborative Fund)
Someone once asked Charlie Munger what Warren Buffett’s secret was. “I would say half of all the time he spends is sitting on his ass and reading. He has a lot of time to think.”
This is the opposite of “hustle porn,” where people want to look busy at all times because they think it’s noble.
Nassim Taleb says, “My only measure of success is how much time you have to kill.” More than a measure of success, I think it’s a key ingredient.
A Brief Guide To The Worst Flight I’ve Ever Been On (All Wit No Brevity)
Brunhilde went quiet. Gunther went quiet. I went quiet. Someone in the seat in front of us was chuckling along to Cheaper By the Dozen 2, but everyone else went quiet. I was on the verge of flagging down a flight attendant so I could ask to be moved to the cargo hold, when Brunhilde finally spoke up.
“I thought we’d moved past this,” she said, staring straight ahead.
“Yeah? Well, maybe I can’t move past it,” he replied.
“We went to all that counselling.”
“I promised I’d go to counselling. I didn’t promise I’d forgive you.”
It was nearly 1 AM on Christmas morning, and I was trapped on an enormous flying Pringles can, listening to a stranger’s marriage fall apart.
What do you think?
Let me know what you found interesting in the comments below!