It’s hard to be this rich. I’m not gonna lie. It’s like, I wake up. I think of all the things I can buy. I get exhausted, just thinking about the private helicopters and the Italian summer houses and the Swiss ski-chalets and the domed hillside Tibetan meditation-chambers, and the vineyards and the pet slow loris habitats. And then I get up, and it’s like, with this kind of obscene wealth, there comes responsibility. Do I wear the diamond tennis bracelet, or the other diamond tennis bracelet? I don’t know. It’s hard. So then I go back to bed.