I have become very lax in my blogging. Alas.

Yesterday I was thinking that working 9-5 should really mean leaving the house at 9 and getting back at 5. I should attempt to convince my employers of this new definition.

In the past few months, I spent a lot of money trying to buy happiness. I purposely did this to test the old adage. Turns out you really can't buy happiness. Or at least I didn't. Photography equipment, video cameras, scooters, clothing, and expensive food didn't work. But maybe I was just buying the wrong things and should have been spending my money on prostitutes.

But I guess almost all my happiness and depressions have nothing to do with money. The only purchased thing in my life that really made me happy was my car. And crashing it was the only really truly depressing thing that was caused by a material good. (I am still in mourning, and in year eight of my self-imposed vow to not have a car for ten years.) But then I guess the car had nothing to do with it. The car just represented the only time in my life I got what I wanted.