Six Guardian wellbeing tips if you have no job and limitless cash

SEEKING serenity, we all turn to the Guardian for advice on coping with the stress and strain of reading terrifying stories in the Guardian. Here are their tips to make you feel good, all the time, about everything.

Throw your alarm clock in the koi carp pond

Why get up at seven in the morning like all those pitiful rodents in the rat race? Sleep in until 11 for maximum spiritual replenishment, then ease yourself gently into the day with a hibiscus tea and a meditation session. It’s a mystery why more people don’t do this.

Get in a little man to do your odd jobs

Skylight in your study stuck? Door to your walk-in pantry come off its hinges? Don’t waste valuable time hunting for a screwdriver when you could be fretting about the disadvantaged. Get in a little man – or better still, a little woman – to do it for you. They’re remarkably cheap and their desperate gratitude for any paid work will give you the lift you need to beat the January Blues.

Winter in Sri Lanka for four weeks instead of two

The effects of the British winter are corrosive for sensitive souls like you who constantly worry about climate change. So why not jet out to your favourite resort for an extended break on the other side of the world where hotels are quaintly cheap and the locals charmingly obsequious? 

Buy that sports car – you’re only 45 once!

You could have been a poet but the capitalist system forced you to go into banking instead. So go on – ditch the wanky folding bicycle for your morning commute and buy that vintage Lotus Elan you always craved. Show your soulless capitalist bosses your spiritual side.

Convert your disused barn into a swimming pool and squash court

We’ve all stared out of our kitchen windows wondering what to do with the derelict barn you inherited when you swapped your job in London for a rural Cotswolds idyll. Well don’t just think, act! For the price of a coffee shop you could convert it into your own private sports centre, with all the scientifically proven health benefits that brings.

Organise a workers’ uprising 

Not a real one, of course! More something along the lines of a civil war reenactment, using local volunteers to play the roles of Russian proletarians overthrowing their imperial tyrants. ‘Living history’ projects like this are not only educational – they provide the disadvantaged with a way of using up energy that might otherwise go into vandalising your Volvo in the Waitrose car park.

How to guiltily explain to your millennial friends that your parents are buying you a house

HAVE you spent years moaning about being part of ‘generation rent’ but now your parents are bunging you some cash for a house? Here’s how to explain it to your pissed-off friends.

‘I wasn’t expecting this’

Ultimately, this isn’t true, because you always knew the wealth contained in your parents’ four-bedroom detached house would eventually land in your bank account. Your friends knew it too, because they’ve spent enough time listening to you banging on about your folks’ plans to buy a ‘bijou little place’ in Pembrokeshire. You’ve all been lying to yourselves, but imagine having a porch!

‘I’m actually quite angry about it’

How dare your parents make you part of the terribly unjust system of wealth transfers by giving you a large sum of money to avoid inheritance tax? It’s monstrous. You rant to your mates about it for a while, before starting to realise that their silence is not down to sympathy for your plight, but seething anger at what an entitled twat you’re being. It’s just all so unfair.

‘It won’t change me’

Having got over the inequality of the situation, you insist that being able to buy a nice flat in the good bit of town won’t change your commitment to the cause of improving conditions for renters. You’ll just make everyone come to your place when you meet up for dinner, because you don’t want to spend time in damp, smelly, mould-infested basement flats if you don’t have to.

‘We can still be friends’

You’ll be paying out less for your new mortgage than you were for your rent, but that doesn’t mean your lifestyles will be that much different. You can still meet for oat milk lattes and craft beer, just like the old days. The problems will come when you suggest a holiday to Barcelona because you’ve got savings now, and they look at you with murder in their eyes because they’ve had to move house for the third time this year and lost their deposit due to leaving a smudge on the oven door.

‘Homeowners aren’t all as bad as you think’

Now that you’re a homeowner, your friends’ shitty attitudes and opinions start to grate on your nerves a bit. Yes, you spent the previous decade bitching about boomers rattling around in massive houses while younger people are crammed into rented shitholes, but you aren’t the enemy now you’re on the property ladder. At least that’s what you like to tell yourself.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t have spent all your money on avocados’

Eventually, you’ll lose patience with your poor friends and their shared kitchens with individually labelled fridge shelves, and go full boomer on them. Surely if they just saved a bit harder they could stop being so scruffy and useless and become a decent member of society? You decide not to allow them in your precious property anymore, even when they’re homeless because the unmaintained roof of their shared house has caved in. They just don’t deserve it.