PowerBall

So last Wednesday I bought a lottery ticket.

I really hadn’t planned on it.  I never buy those things.  But The Boyfriend happened to mention that the pot was up to $400,000,000 and that’s a number I can respect.

As you can clearly see, I bought my ticket at 11:38 a.m.  The drawing was not until 10 p.m.   So, for a few hours, I daydreamed about what I would do with my $200,000,000 windfall. (I’d be taking it in a lump sum payout, naturally.)

First I had to plan for the future.  Not even in my dreams could I think about splurging.  I would have to talk with my accountant and financial planner and attorney yadda yadda yadda…

I would be a do-gooder, too, of course.  Give lots of it away to charities and schools and animal rights causes.  I would make magnificent contributions to cure scourges like cancer and help those under-funded forgotten “orphan” diseases that don’t get as much publicity.

And then there would have to be sponsorship of the arts.  Generous gifts to the Lyric and Ravinia and the CSO and the Goodman, PBS and…well you get my drift.

But leaving all that public benefactress stuff out, what else would I do with all that lovely, lovely money?

(We’re talking here about extra money, you know, fun money- money strictly to blow.)

Wish List:

A really indulgent, AWESOME car.

A house somewhere warm.

A ski house in Snowmass. (Where else?)

And most importantly, a plane to get me to all of this real estate.  (And to visit the grandchildren.)

Wow! Really fun to fantasize about for a few hours.

But then…

The more I thought about it, the less I started to care. Hadn’t I always told the kids that the most important things in life didn’t come in a store?

That happiness and peace of mind can not be bought at any price.

Hadn’t I learned the hard way that money and things don’t ever buy love or protect you from heartbreak?

And then I took some inventory of my life as it stands today.

I’m happy and in good health. (Pooh pooh pooh.)

Ditto my children and grandchildren. (Pooh pooh pooh.)

I have enough of everything.  Knock on wood.

Ditto my loved ones.

Knock again.

Cupid has even seen fit to give me one more chance at the brass ring.

I’m lucky and I know it.

P.S.  I didn’t stay up for the drawing Wednesday night.

I already knew who won.