Dude, it’s NOT ABOUT THE MONEY.
Yeah, well, shit. There you are with your Ferrari and your business partnership and your sixty-five employees and your coke habit and your dangerously clogged arteries and five kids you know about.
You’ve been married to your first wife twice, your second wife left you and the third is an alcoholic. Your house is SPOTLESS because you employ three people to come and clean up after you. The swimming pool doesn’t get used much, but the gym looks REALLY COOL, even if it’s not very functional.
You did some AWESOME deals last year. You brought in more new business than anybody else in the firm. You’re looking at a VERY high six-figure bonus this year. The hours are long, and you’ve got a permanent ache in your left shoulder. Your piles are particularly aggravating, but it’s a small sacrifice for that HUGE PAYCHECK.
Another three years, you reckon? Another three years, five at the most, before you can start to take it easy. By that time, you’ll have banked a few mill and the company will be running itself. You can get childcare for your toddlers. They need their mum more than their dad, anyway.
Then, once you’ve sold out, you can fuck off to the Caribbean and have your first gin and tonic at eleven in the morning.
That’s the life. Just another five years, ten at the most. Then you’ll be free.