Three years back, I invested £500 in nearly 100 million shiba inu tokens, which was thrilling, as I had never owned such a substantial quantity of anything before. Over a few days, I built a collection of cryptocurrencies, each more absurd than the last. Shiba inu, in particular, stood out—a joke coin poking fun at another speculative coin that ridiculed Bitcoin. It was amusing, trading at just 0.0000009p each.

My initial interest stemmed from a story I was crafting. Once the story was complete, I exchanged the digital assets back into cash and used that money for practical purchases, including food for my family. I had anticipated that soon enough, individuals—mostly young men in their basements—would realize this was an evident Ponzi scheme and that the cryptocurrency bubble would inevitably burst.

To my surprise, I was mistaken. In 2021, I noted roughly 200 different “currencies” on my cryptocurrency application. Today, that number has exploded to around 4,000, many seemingly invented out of thin digital air. Among these, there are tokens like Big Dog Fink and one called Peanut the Squirrel, which I checked was valued at £882 million. Alarmingly, about seven million individuals in the UK now hold some form of cryptocurrency, indicating that not all of them are the stereotypical basement-dwelling young men—many must be adults with families to care for.

Once again, I found myself questioning the sanity of it all, leading me to make a rather foolish decision. I revisited my old portfolio, curious about its worth had I not diverted my investment into buying broccoli and satsumas. I assumed my financially savvy decision would be validated, but to my dismay, that wasn’t the case.

While most of the cryptocurrencies I had traded bounced around without much consequence, shiba inu skyrocketed to an astonishing value of 0.00009p per token in the six months following my sell-off. Had I decided not to buy groceries for a few months instead, I would have potentially amassed £45,000. Even now, the initial £500 I spent would be worth about £10,000—or perhaps £15,000, or back to £10,000 again.

This experience has given me a glimpse of what James Howells, the IT engineer who misplaced 7,500 bitcoins on an old hard drive, must feel. His girlfriend discarded the hard drive in 2013 when the bitcoins were worth a mere £4 million—she later claimed she did so at his request. Now, those bitcoins are valued at nearly £1 billion. James frequently appears in the news, showcasing his ongoing efforts to persuade the council to allow him to excavate the landfill site. His most recent plan involved the use of AI, but the council remains unyielding, resulting in him suing them for £495 million.

It would have been better if I hadn’t revisited my shiba inu investments, just as it would have been better for James had he never remembered the contents of that hard drive. As Thackeray astutely remarked, it’s worse to have been on the verge of significant wealth and lost it than never to have engaged in the volatile world of cryptocurrency at all.

I also take solace in the belief that, had I held onto those 100 million tokens, fate would have found a way to render them worthless.

I recall meeting a group of lottery winners once (for another article I was writing). They had each acquired life-changing sums of money. Surprisingly, most made considerable efforts to prevent their newfound wealth from altering their lifestyles. They upgraded their fridges and cars, but none ventured much beyond that. Even a prison worker who won millions continued to work, pondering what else he would do if he didn’t.

“Why not buy a private island?” I suggested. “Or spend a year traveling on the Orient Express? Treat yourself to a big shopping spree?” But he maintained that he enjoyed his routine. While it frustrated me at the time, I now understand his perspective. What do they say about the finest things in life? And how the grass seems greener? I don’t even crave a larger fridge.

That said, I occasionally buy a lottery ticket, allowing myself a brief moment of imagination regarding how I would spend the winnings. Additionally, I recently ventured back into the crypto space, spending this month’s broccoli budget on a small investment. I acquired one million bonk tokens for £30 and 50 golem tokens for £20. An hour later, my bonks had dropped to £20, and my golems fell to £15, but I’m resolved to hold onto them. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Sorry, darling, I tossed that hard drive out ages ago.”