Well the 70 million dollar jackpot went off last night. Three people managed to get almost 25 million dollars each. I’m still clinging to the notion that I could be one of them. One was from New South Wales and my mobile phone isn’t charged so the lottery people could have tried to contact me while I ate chocolate, watched Missing and went to bed way too late. Sleeping the night away blissfully unaware that I now had enough money to legitimately buy my way into the George Clooney dinner party.
They say money doesn’t buy happiness but I reckon 25 million dollars has to dull a lot of pain.
The last couple of days we’ve played the “if I win the lottery” game. You know the one where for a few moments you get to live every dream you have ever had? Mr Shambles immediately heads to the luxury boat builder, I take off to the airport – look out world here I come! What would you do if you suddenly had unlimited funds?
The mathematicians were out in force last night – with their killjoy statistics making it clear that my one ticket with four games had, well a snowball’s chance in hell of taking off the big one. Is it a sign of an optimistic personality that even knowing the chances I still play the game? All I hear is the one in … that’s it one person has to win … whose to say I can’t be THE ONE?
If you won more money than is reasonably healthy would it change you? Would it change the way the people around you behave? What happens when you can no longer bond over struggle street? Would you tell anyone that you had won? I’m not sure I could keep a secret that big.
Then of course there’s the children, it’s character building to have to do learn a trade, complete a degree, survive crappy jobs, sell your soul to the bank. Would you remove that experience for them?
Oh the decisions! Well, I’m off to charge the phone and you know, go to work, better not burn my bridges, just in case I’m not the “one winner from New South Wales”.