The subject of inflation a couple of weeks ago prompted a letter from a reader that is worth passing on: "I must confess that I no longer pay close attention to prices on individual items in the food shops," the reader wrote.

"I was scrupulous about tracking that when my kids were teenagers and my income was limited. I shopped at several different markets to take advantage of special prices and used the infamous American coupons. They cut a minimum of 10 percent off my weekly grocery budget — which produced real savings, as I didn't buy things just because I had coupons for them.

"I stuck to my normal list and ignored my children's demands for goodies; instead I taught them how to bake!

"No, I didn't waste money on gas by shopping at several different markets — they were all within three blocks of one another. Even after I started earning a significant pay packet, I still used coupons and comparison-shopped.

"When I came to Bermuda the sticker shock was so great that I stopped tracking the information. I was making a great deal of money (and had no time) — and it was much more difficult to compare between shops. The sticker shock held through to purchasing a vehicle.

"After spending a couple of decades in the automobile business in the US, my spouse almost had a fatal heart attack when setting out to purchase a car to find that (1) there was no negotiation; one paid sticker price, and (2) a Suzuki jeep cost what we had sold my Lexus for. I heard about it for months!

"Now I only experience reverse sticker shock whenever I travel to the US. Since, of late, I always seem to be staying with a friend or relative on these trips, I participate in grocery purchasing escapades. It is actually a 'high' to wander through a US supermarket, marvelling at the prices and the quality of the fresh produce.

"Even more wonderful is visiting California, where I can purchase all fresh produce, plus flowers, in daily farmers' markets at amazing prices. Then I return to Bermuda and am completely befuddled again."

The reader touches on a problem I've mentioned before. It's what I call the yo-yo effect. Most of us suffer from it to a greater or lesser degree. When I'm in Bermuda, I sometimes feel like the poor relation. I spend some of my time in the company of rich men and women, often multi-millionaires, because of the nature of my work. I write about billions of dollars much more often than I write about hundreds.

I don't resent anyone anything, financially or otherwise: you earn it or you win it (or you marry it or inherit it), but however wealth happens to others is none of my beeswax. The sensation I feel being me is more one of letting the team down, along the lines of "Boy, I'm the only one in the room who cares what his rent is." It's not a powerful emotion, but it's there.

Then I go overseas, say to London or New York, and I am almost always the best off in the room, as many of my friends like to remind me. (They seem to think that Bermuda just hands you the money.) By the standards of my friends in those places, people I grew up with or whose company I enjoy, I'm the tax-free big shot. I don't act that way, but again it's an unspoken thing. I usually pay more than my share of expenses, gladly, because that's how the world works.

Overseas, as the reader suggested, you can go to a supermarket or a restaurant, especially in the States, and it's almost as if they're giving the food away. It makes you wonder, sometimes, how that works, exactly. Bermuda prices, I'm sure, needn't be as high as they are, but with no control mechanism in place, there is no ceiling.

I used to think that the reason a $2 beer cost $9 in Bermuda was the cost of freight and duty, but then I worked at Bermuda Container Line for a while, and found out what the cost of shipping was. Per bottle of beer, it's no more than a few cents. The price goes up because of the handling. Everything costs more every time it's handled: out of a warehouse, onto a ship, off a ship, into a warehouse, out of a warehouse, into inventory, out of inventory. Then the cost rises again when it's sold in a Bermuda establishment whose owners have to pay Bermuda rents and salaries to the employees, plus earn a Bermuda-level profit.

As I say, this isn't a huge thing, but it is a thing. I try very hard to practise what I preach, and am generally not envious at all of the big salaries people here pull down. To do so, they make compromises I am not willing to make and I have a sneaky feeling that, pound for pound, rich people are no happier than anyone else. I sometimes think I'm more content with a little than some people are with a lot. (Smug, ain't I? I also sometimes think I'm more miserable than anyone I've ever met, but that's a separate discussion.)

Success, financial and otherwise, should be measured in personal terms. Too many people think they're failing if they make less money than the people next door, or in adjacent cubicles. I've said it before, and will doubtless say it again: life is not a competition with others; it's a competition with yourself. Set your own goals, regardless of what other people are doing, and enjoy it when you achieve what you set out to do.

If the people next door have a better car, job or swimming pool, they're almost certainly paying for it one way or another. You'll never know their experience, so fuggedabahtit. Cut your own path through the weeds of life; it's the only one that will bring you happiness.