By the time I’m 65, I sincerely hope I am:
- A sudoku extraordinaire,
- A smug grandma,
- The owner of 10 absurdly fluffy robes, and finally,
- Rolling around in a gold-plated house bursting with fat stacks of cash.
I would just really like to not think twice about ordering Singapore noodles from Uber Eats every Friday night, you know? I’d like to walk into a Zimmermann store and announce “I’LL TAKE IT ALL”, and bundle a heap of those chiffon-y, flowery dresses into my arms and march my way to the register. I want to drive a car that doesn’t have two of its hubcaps missing like my sh*tty Holden Barina does right now.
I WANT TO BE RICH, DAMMIT. I WANT TO BE FILTHY RICH.
(Granted, journalism might have been quite the misstep when I chose my career – I hear investment banking earns a few more dubloons – but still.)
Stick with me please and don’t get lost because I swear this inane diatribe is going somewhere.
It turns out Business Insider, bless their cotton socks, determined precisely how much I need to save in order to become a millionaire by 65. And, well, it all seems pretty breezy – so long as you abide by the Golden Law of Saving Sweet Cashola.
That Golden Law is called “investing”, you guys. You need to invest.
WATCH: Men and women negotiating their salaries. (Post continues…)