Deflating Hopes In An Inflating World

I shall never own a Bentley motorcar. They have been priced out of my league since...oh...March of 1948. I have come to terms with the disappointment. I am slowly doing so in respect of a number of things; petrol, tomatoes, and new digital cameras, amongst other things. The rise in prices of goods and services means I will not be acquiring and demanding as much in the future. I do not blame the various shops and trades - they have all been struck by rising costs and in turn have to raise their prices to stay in business. In the case of the local Hawkers Market cafe that is to satay in business...Nor can I blame them for the lack of goods or slow delivery times. No-one on the shop-counter interface has the power to compel container ships or trains to speed up any more than they can set wholesale or distributor's prices. The remedy for much of the woe is fortitude and determination - if I have goods that operate now I need to work with them and not continually demand novelty. I may discover a facility that was there all the time, yet untapped. My Lightroom subscription is a case in point. It contains processing power I did not know it had - re-reading the awkward Adobe textbook on the subject has opened my eyes to a range of things that I had been doing badly, if at all. Now I can have the program do some of them automatically, and well. I wrote of disappointment in the leader line. Where is that dissatisfaction centred? On the need for something I did not have before, but has now been offered by a manufacturer - and that inflation will keep from me? Or is it the FOMO of trade, with new goods desired before the old ones have been mastered? The first would be a genuine, but the second a false emotion. In both cases they cause me to reflect on the last lot of fancy goods I bought and the story I told myself to make the sale: that it was all I would need and I would be happy ever after. Has ever after finished early?