It’s indescribable really. An indescribable kind of sadness. It’s livable- never fear dear reader, for your loyal writer has no intentions of jumping off the nearest cliff. It’s the kind of sadness one can “cope” with, live with. Unfortunately, it’s also the kind of sadness that can result in an acute misery that hits usually in the deepest hours of the night. Perhaps it’s not a sadness, but a dissatisfaction, not a dissatisfaction, but an existential outlook. Or maybe it’s the worst of all- boredom. A suburban boredom with the monotonous day to day routine and the knowledge that this routine goes on indefinitely. Couple that with the knowledge that this routine is also entirely meaningless, and you have a recipe for the kind of depression that leads to expensive rehabilitation centers full of depressed teens of your own socio economic status. This kind of depression is not for the lower middle class, for just as in all the centuries ending in “teen”, in which only the rich had time to educate themselves, only the rich have the time to expand their minds to reach this kind of sadness. That is not to say it is some kind of noble sadness capable only of touching those who are also noble. No, rather it is the result of a deep ennui running through the blue blood veins of the privileged. A kind of depression one can only find with too much time and after deep, superficial reflection. Fortunately, there is a solution to this problem: an ever flowing trust fund from which one may dip into in order to fund the cross culture travel that leads to a sense of enlightenment and self-fulfillment. Unfortunately, this author may have neglected to mention that this kind of depression has it financial limits as well, for those with a certain level of affluence, the famed top percent, are not touched by this specific kind of sadness. No, this sadness belongs solely to the upper class, but not so high up that they can afford every material desire and opportunity that allows them to forget it. But don’t fret, for the upper middle class earn the title “upper” without having any brains, there is indeed another solution: pills. Pills pills pills. There’s a pill for having a bad day, a bad year, a bad life. There is no need to feel sadness, no need to feel anything at all. It is the closest we may ever come to trust funds, and that is just something we not-rich-enough’s have come to accept.