A Pauper's Christmas
I've been rich and I've been poor, and I prefer poverty because it's cheaper and the effect is about the same.
A new car and an old car both get you there. The warmth of a coat is not affected by newness. Love, in poverty, is easier to detect: lacking tokens, it's either there or it's not; while love, in wealth, is easily buried in baubles, bribes, toys, taxes, hugs, kisses and the promise of more if you're good.
Christmas can be a difficult time for both the rich and the poor, but there's no doubt the rich bear the worst of it, and it all has to do with list length. The very rich have exceedingly long lists on pocket gizmos, while the poor have a short list they can keep in their noodle. The rich have to gift everybody, keep inventory, follow through; the poor just kind of fall together, fill their faces, fall asleep in the second half.
The rich have to attend fabulous parties and drink too much and pay the price, while the poor, the barmaids and bartenders, drivers and doormen, the babysitters, will be fondled, overtipped, thrown up on or made to hear slurpy confessions. The poor get entertainment, the rich, regret.
I recommend wealth to anyone who hasn't tried it, and poverty for the same reason. Have a wonderful Christmas.