Money Factory

I chose the title "Money Factory" for this blog because I felt that is what I had become. I work all day in a Money Factory and that seemed to be my role in the marriage. I couldn't get my wife's affection but I could provide a seven figure income (I told you I was a jammy bastard). I work long hours and see little of my children. My work is 100% commitment or you need to get out. There seemed to be little else in my life.

So why not stop? Well, I'm sad to say that as your wealth expands, so does your expenditure. You send your kids to private schools, you buy second homes, you go on more expensive holidays, you fly club, you buy expensive cars (lots of them - which depreciate, guzzle petrol, cost a fortune to insure), you decorate lavishly, you get involved in expensive hobbies like yachts, golf, motor-racing and shooting (not all of them in my case but you get my drift). Suddenly, after the taxman has chewed it over for a while, the seven figure number covers your expenditure and allows you to put some away for a rainy day, but you can't stop work.

Don't get me wrong, I am not unhappy about my wealth - I don't subscribe to the cliché that "money can't buy you happiness". Anyone who says that clearly doesn't know where to shop.

I am not whinging about my life - I have a fulfilling career and get more money for it than I deserve.

It's just that:
1. The rat race is more difficult to escape than most people would credit; and
2. As my home life went off the boil because of my career, my career was all I had.

This blog is about putting number 2 right...