We live to our means, and that explains the fact that I've never had more money at the end of the week regardless of the size and number of pay rises. When my wife and I paid out our mortgage you'd expect that we'd have had that monthly payment sitting snug in a bank account at the end of each month, or I expected that. Not once, and as I write in The Herald today I was mystified as to where it went. A few years ago as she found more time with the reduction in our at-home family my wife joined the paid workforce, and my expectation that her after-tax salary would be surplus to requirements was foolish.
Sure, we spend it, although I'll admit that I haven't always been so sure. Maybe, I've thought, some bankee somewhere is growing fat on my failure to check bank statements. But we do spend it on big and little things. The big things include cars, computers and a yet-to-be-paid-for caravan. I don't have a clue what the little things are but I assume there are a host of them because the big things cannot account for the missing moolah.
But big or little, do these things improve our lives? Are we better off for the fact that we have a higher income, a higher disposable income particularly, than in times past?
When we were on one income, and that income was lower, we had two cars, and we were no worse off for the fact that they were secondhand or old. We had a computer, and while my current laptop is very much an optional extra I'd have had one then if I'd wanted one. We had a camper caravan, and the fact that it was secondhand rather than new didn't matter one iota.
In short, we enjoyed life with an adequate income no less than we enjoy life now with a significantly higher income. And I don't see any evidence that our rich friends find more satisfaction and enjoyment in life than such relative paupers as my wife and me.
So what, then, of your and my lifelong pursuit of more money, of wealth?