Happiness. It's relative.

I wish I’d come up with the scratch to buy the land adjacent to our cabin on Lake Superior, so someone wasn’t able to build an enormous, earth-scarring monstrosity next door. I say ‘next door’ hesitantly as it implies neighborliness, as in, let’s go borrow a cup of sugar from the folks next door.
There is more wrong about the building next door than the building next door.
I wrote about my frustration with the construction of this Trumpian horror a few years ago but then a reader told me to get over myself and my second house and go do something useful like help the homeless. Oh well.
Looking back, I could’ve sold my car, taken a second job at the 7-Eleven, you know, hustle a bit. As it was, I just watched ugliness unfold, like the world’s slowest vomit.
Most of my life’s regrets are about actions I did take not ones that I didn’t. This would be the exception. And it’s a doozy.
Not the most beautifully written post but you asked and I answered.
My business partner, former Congressman Henry Reuss, offered me first right of refusal on his North Lake home. It was a lovely place, right on the lake, but it was $175,000, and couldn’t be a primary residence for various reasons including the fact that the public schools nearby were bad. I already was paying for University School to avoid the public schools in Milwaukee, and there was no equivalent there at the time. I passed it up, and forever regretted not scraping up the dough to do it and figuring out the rest later. One thing I learned and passed onto my kids was to always say yes when presented with an opportunity even if it seemed unrealistic.
Same here. The house next door sold recently. They are growing a hedge that will block our winter sunshine and park views. The hedge is placed too close to the boundary so we will have to prune it on our side. I could go on but I too apparently have to get over it.