Okay, that's perhaps a slight exaggeration, but without that venerable old philosopher I'd be penniless, dehydrated and miserable today; confined to live on whatever sparse supplies of canned tuna and pasta I have in my cupboard until sometime next week - provided I got paid on time.

But, wonders of all wonders, despite how someone stole all my money yesterday, I woke up this morning to find that I had finally been paid for two John Stuart Mill translations I did a while back (excerpts from "On Liberty" and "On the Subjection of Women") and was no longer penniless.

Not to mention how Mill might have saved my sanity: back when I was offered the unexpected opportunity to immerse myself in his long and winding Victorian sentences, it provided a most welcome change from an incredibly detailistic and demanding trade publication I had foolishly agreed to do some work off my usual beat for (I was nearly pulling my hair off over that one, it didn't even pay well).

Now, I must admit that utilitarianism isn't exactly my (philosophical) cup of tea, but in this instance the school of thought was definitely on my side in more ways than one. Not only did everyone benefit, including the pesky thief, but the quality of my pleasure this morning, when I discovered that I could devote my day to writing rather than chasing money, should be enough to satisfy the cost-benefit analysis' of both Bentham AND Mill (no, the distress last night was not great enough to outweigh the benefits)...