So often, I’ve contemplated what the ideal amount of fun is in my life. I’ve also caught myself thinking this about people who I view as successful. It’s extremely easy to do this when countless 100 foot yachts pass by constantly. If allowed to linger, this thought can venture to the point at which the normal line upon which one defines material success is blurred to the extent that it nearly disappears completely. Exotic cars are more likely to be rented or leased than owned. On the water, yachts larger than most homes are more likely to be chartered for hours or weekends than to be the tangible result of years or decades of hard work. While each of these exotic cars and yachts has an owner, rarely do the true owners seem to use their assets in the manner in which they were physically intended. Rather, they are used to generate income, which perpetuates their position and further solidifies their ownership. While a capitalist at heart, I’m fascinated by people's lifestyles, including understanding how and why people have as much fun as they do.
Is a certain amount of fun, enjoyment, or entertainment a necessary opposite of a certain amount of hard work? Setting aside traditional work schedules, what percentage of one’s waking hours is necessary in order to allow for an optimal mental state to achieve all other desires in life? These are rhetorical questions, as I lately think this answer is different for everyone. Many people may say they would love a month-long vacation at a beach only to find themselves deathly bored after a week or 10 days.
One more thing that perplexes me is seeing these party boats in the middle of the week. Has the entire eight person bachelorette party taken an entire week off of their jobs, or if any of them are not employed at all (which would make the mental calculation marginally more simple)? To clarify, this thought exercise is done mostly out of curiosity as opposed to judgment, as who am I to judge what days of the week or the extent to which someone enjoys themselves?
An alternative way of viewing yourself or others having fun is that, in some regards, having too much fun or perhaps drinking too much, for instance, can be interpreted as pulling forward enjoyment at the expense of future composure or comfort. Beyond our livers telling us that they do not enjoy processing too much alcohol, a hangover is exactly that: a lack of fullness due to it having already been used.
After reading this, you might think that the author clearly doesn’t have half as much fun as he or she should have; otherwise, these thoughts wouldn’t cross his or her mind. I’ll let you know that I should, in fact, have a little bit more fun than I have - shouldn’t we all?