I once got a $2 million bonus — and I was never more miserable
Getting a job on Wall Street was the first of like ten boxes I thought I needed to check in order to be happy. The last box — the finish line — was to make a “stick,” which means earn one million dollars in a year.
A decade into my career I was sitting on the couch, alone, in my 2,700 square-foot Tribeca apartment. It was just after Christmas and I had received a $2 million bonus. I was thinking to myself, I got the girl, the home, the social status, the job title and tons of power. But if I can just make three million dollars next year … then I’ll be happy.
I sought happiness like a crack addict in search of his next rock. I constantly craved for my next hit of happiness.
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