At times I think I would prefer to be a gentleman, in the old English sense, born into wealth and privilege with lands and a stately old home with gardeners taking care of the outside and an entire staff keeping the inside neat and tidy (including my teenagers’ bedrooms and bathroom).
Maybe a little over the top, but you know what I mean.
I’d have to juggle my tennis match with other elites and various social engagements in order to make time to sign important papers to increase my wealth or to meet with important peers awaiting my sage advise.
No such luck. That is not how my day will unfold.
However, today I will not hide behind a spoofed telephone number on your caller ID to try to sell you a time-share condominium. I will not go around my store and relabel all the appliances, automobiles, or canned goods with a higher “Regular Price” so the same old “Sale Price” looks like a better deal. Nor will I be sending you an email to steal your money, your password, or your identity. I won’t pretend I’m a Nigerian Prince who needs your help to rescue my fortune or try to convince you that, based on a single poorly performed experiment, I can cure you of your chronic ills.
I’ll just go to work, then come home to my family.
Not to bad, really.
sfnowak 
Hola Steve. Heck, my first glance at your post I thought you had the Lotto. Then, it reminded me of my early years with my good old, tough Mexican dad and how he used to read to all of us 13 brothers and sisters what we believed were esoteric–BANANAS even–stuff. Your post conjured up memories of one, EXCELSIOR by Longfellow.
It’s about this guy who goes on a journey and sees the ups and downs of life as he’s travelling. There’s beauty and peace in all of it, and he would like to stop and enjoy life, but he’s compelled to move forward and upward which what the word EXCELSIOR means–and he keeps repeating EXCELSIOR to himself in order to keep his momentum from waning. He does not do what YOU, Steve, have done: Find home. And all that home means.