Luxuries

Time is a luxury as I have realised again, now that I finally have more of it to myself, this summer. Autonomy, fresh air and restful solitude feels luxurious too. It invigorates me.

We weren't wealthy in the early days when we lived in a tiny bungalow, when I used to fiddle the household accounts to keep the true state of affairs from my husband, and had to choose between affording vegetables, for example, or a 1st birthday present for my daughter. I made a decorated bag for her toys out of pieces of old cloth. No such worries any longer. I recently discovered from a philanthropic website that our annual income before tax puts us in the top 0.1% of wealth, worldwide. It is a statistic that shocks me, shocks me in the old fashioned sense, i.e. horrifies rather than takes me by surprise, as the younger generation would have it ("She was like shocked to see how many likes she got!") — and makes me feel guilty.

This month I'm feeling guiltier than ever (hypocritically so, because also looking forward to it): we've booked business class seats on the flights for our upcoming business trip for Chris to California and Tokyo. It will be a demanding couple of weeks for Chris, with back-to-back assignments, on his feet all day in different time zones and with six separate flights to endure. We decided that he at least ought to travel as comfortably as possible. We set off tomorrow morning. I hope the experience isn't going to spoil us more than we're spoiled already. It may. I have twice before sat in business class seats, on those occasions as a result of unexpected courtesy upgrades, once for a short flight, once for a long-haul. This time I chose to redeem several years worth of Avion points, as well as spending a few thousand extra dollars. Chris doesn't have to pay for his flights out of his own pocket, and the cost of our lodgings will be refunded too.