My woodshop of 220v saws. They paid for themselves remodeling my house and building most of the furniture and all the cabinets in it. So, now they paid for themselves and I can make whatever I want. Saw brrrr noises are my therapy. I think I'm slowly becoming Nick Offerman.
Just the other night my wife commented that I'm turning into Ron Swanson: after spending the day in the workshop making a bookcase for an oddly shaped nook in the house (carpenter quoted me a price so high that just with this project the nice miter saw amortized itself) I fired up the grill to cook a nice porterhouse steak, while nursing a nice dram of lagavulin. I even work for the government