Sorry if you're not New Yorkers.
Here's what you're supposed to be thinking. Here's this couple on the Hamptons.
Very expensive real estate. Gorgeous beach. Beautiful day. They have it all to themselves. What could be better?
"Well, damn it," this guy is thinking, "It's August. Everybody in my Manhattan neighborhood is away.
I could be parking right in front of my building."
And he spends two weeks nagged by the idea that he is missing the opportunity, day after day, to have a great parking space.
Opportunity costs subtract from the satisfaction we get out of what we choose, even when what we choose is terrific.
And the more options there are to consider,
the more attractive features of these options are going to be reflected by us as opportunity costs. Here's another example.
Now this cartoon makes a lot of points.
It makes points about living in the moment as well, and probably about doing things slowly.
But one point it makes is that whenever you're choosing one thing,
you're choosing not to do other things that may have lots of attractive features, and it's going to make what you're doing less attractive.
Third: escalation of expectations. This hit me when I went to replace my jeans. I wear jeans almost all the time.
There was a time when jeans came in one flavor, and you bought them, and they fit like crap, they were incredibly uncomfortable,
if you wore them and washed them enough times, they started to feel OK.
I went to replace my jeans after years of wearing these old ones, and I said, "I want a pair of jeans. Here's my size."
And the shopkeeper said, "Do you want slim fit, easy fit, relaxed fit?
You want button fly or zipper fly? You want stonewashed or acid-washed?
Do you want them distressed? You want boot cut, tapered, blah blah."
On and on he went. My jaw dropped. And after I recovered, I said, "I want the kind that used to be the only kind."