When I’m unhappy, I feel like I’m doing life wrong. I’d rather be happy. But is happiness the point of life, or is there more to it? If I pursue happiness, mine first then for those around me, is that selfish? But if there’s a bigger purpose, then what about people with Alzheimer’s or dementia who can’t recall recent experiences or make plans?
As another commenter said: “up to you.”
I read about Investors Exchange in the Michael Lewis book Flash Boys. It’s a great read, but unsettling. When I read about their problem registering a website, I discovered my username. (I’m not affiliated with the actual stock exchange.)
So you aren’t investing to be able to afford (horrifically expensive) surgery.
It’s cheaper just to wear lacy underthings. It annoys my wife, but it leaves me more money to invest with.