In my job, I meet many different people, I spend time in their houses, I listen to their complaints.

They open their hearts to me, because they trust me to keep them warm and dry.
The most unhappy are of course the underclass, addicted ,depressed worthless...they do not have a life, they have a penance.

In general terms, the happiest people are those with a job giving them just enough to get by and be comfortable.

The ultra rich are also happy but in a different way...I dont think they really appreciate how very lucky they are, most are arrogant and selfish, looking down on those competing in the rat race.

Those in between are like rats in a cage, their life a continual struggle to climb the ladder and a blind terror of slipping down even one rung, sustained by wine, valium and adrenaline.

And the reason for all the angst? A few tons of printed paper....comic cuts which we think represents something real.

Sometimes I despair at our greed and stupidity.