If I Won The Lottery
My job has kinda sucked for the past six months. I spend a good portion of the day stressed to the edge of losing my shit and burning down everything in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I like my job, I’m good at my job, I just live under a giant pile of work and it’s crushing me to death. (That may be a slight exaggeration.) Sometimes (all of the times), to give my brain a little break I’ll play the “if I win the lottery” game.
First, I’d never set foot in my office again. The lottery winners who go back to work are messed up. They should have the winnings taken away from them and given to me. Then there are all the obvious and boring parts of winning millions of dollars – hiring a money manager, setting up trusts for family and friends, paying mortgages, investments, charitable contributions (Planned Parenthood, NPR, PBS, other good liberal causes). Now, all the boring stuff is done and I’m ready to really have fun.
We’re gonna go on a giant, crazy vacation. Bring family and friends along to a villa in Europe. We’ll spend days eating cheese and drinking wine and doing whatever the hell we want – probably a whole lot of nothing. Do some sightseeing. Meet the locals. Invite three men who may be a friend’s father to come and spend time with her. Sing Abba songs. Uncover vast conspiracies with our knowledge of arcane symbols. Wear magic pants that fit all of us even though we’re different sizes. The usual.