I don’t play the lottery very often, but when I do, I’m pretty sure I’m going to win. I take great pains to ensure that all of my family members’ birthdays, my favorite Brewer’s player numbers, and the combination to my sixth grade locker are evenly covered as I carefully color in the bubbles and then hand my sheet to the convenience store cashier.
Driving home with the lucky ticket in my pocket, jamming to One Direction, my mind wanders off and begins wrestling with difficult questions that I assume plague the rich daily. Pool or tennis court? Private jet or yacht? Tall, snooty butler with a thin mustache or fat, clumsy butler with a heart of gold?
Then I think about what charities I would want to donate some of my earnings to, how much I would want to give to places like my church, animal shelters, disaster relief, and research for diseases like cancer and alzheimers. And then of course I have to decide whether I’d donate massive chunks of my nearly acquired riches to people who’ve done small, simple things for me when I was down on my luck. You know, a couple million dollar tip to that guy from Subway who threw in a free cookie to top off my $5 foot long meal, or a new mansion for the mailman who always greets me with a warm hello and a smile every time she delivers my mail. And of course I can’t forget my family. And my friends. And my dog (I can finally buy him the 14K gold bone he has always wanted!!)
I toy with the idea of stashing my cash in a vault and swimming in it like Scrooge McDuck, traveling the world by rickshaw, or possibly buying the Internet.
My mind entertains these wild dreams because being a dreamer is great. It’s down right awesome, in fact. Without dreams, life would be pretty boring. Driving home from that convenience store, that lucky ticket still burning in my pocket, One Direction still singing sweet nothings into my ear (Oooooh. New dream. Pay for OD to stand in as my alarm clock every morning. There’s nothing like greeting the new day with a little Story of My Life action…LIVE!), I let these crazy thoughts fly free.
Yes, this little jack pot fantasy continues right up until the numbers are announced.
And I don’t win.
Nope. Not even one number right.
I’m not even close.
I shouldn’t have played.
I’m a total idiot.
I am a total idiot who just threw five bucks away for no reason. I could’ve gotten my favorite cold cut foot-long (and possibly free cookie) instead!
But I guess that’s why it’s so great when I don’t play, and I check my numbers, and sure enough, they didn’t come up. Now who’s laughing?
Me, the five bucks richer gal, that’s who.