Supposedly, $30,000 is the magic number upon which money and happiness no longer go hand in hand. Being a New Yorker, I'm assuming that you have to adjust the number to fit the local cost of living inflation around here, which would put me under the line.

But it's in part quite true, for while more money would allow me to buy nice toys, or go eat meals without worrying about the bottom line, it won't buy me the things I really want: a woman to share my (admittedly sad) life with, and time.

I long for time. To be like those normal people, getting out of work at normal hours, seeing the sun as they go home, eating a nice meal or changing clothes, before heading out into the night to spend time with friends or having some fun.

I just want to catch a performance of As You Like It at the Shakespeare in the Parking Lot. It starts at 8pm, Thursday through Saturday, and is just a half hour from work, and yet due to obligations, I haven't yet been able to make it out there on time, or at all in fact. People just seem to think that I loll about all day doing nothing, and that it's no trouble for me to drop everything and tend to their needs. I have needs too, like eating a meal before 11pm. Perhaps I'd actually like to go out and enjoy a nice free play, or movie, or music concert during the summer. Or maybe I'd like to do whatever the damn hell I want to do, instead of doing the crap that I have to do, for a change.

It's all I dream about with my imaginary lotto winnings. Having the time to see some free Shakespere.