This is a post I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to publish. Why? Because it means I didn’t win the Mega Millions drawing on Friday.
This is a bummer because I already had the post written for when I won.
“Hey guys! I’m on my own tropical island working on my exotic container gardens while tirelessly devoting myself to perfecting the slow motion ‘Baywatch’ jog. Be back in a bit!”
It’s also a bummer because I need money and wouldn’t have turned into one of the 8 out of 10 winners I read about who go through their money in five years and freak out.
I can tell you I wouldn’t get weird. I would get awesome.
So while I don’t generally buy a ticket, the idea of that much money gets the attention of almost everyone, and if you have one functioning cell of imagination in your body, you’ve thought about what you would do with all that money.
First, I would hire a lawyer to handle weirdoes coming out of the woodwork and the details of my fortune. That lawyer would look exactly like Matthew McConaughey in “A Time to Kill” and I would force him to work topless and smell like either Clinique Happy for men or toast.
I would also work on a will, as now I would have something other than my collection of Jillian Michael’s DVDs to leave my family should I meet an untimely death by garbage truck returning home from making my bank deposit and/or passing out bread to wounded geese at the fowl retirement home.
Don’t laugh. Considering I won the lottery, the odds of the garbage truck thing aren’t beyond the realm of possibility.
Of course I would do all the things like pay off my house, take care of my mom and a few hardworking and responsible people I’m close to who wouldn’t let money mar those values. That’s a no-brainer, and most people would give that answer.
But what about after all that normal stuff is done and you still have Matthew McConaughey on retainer?
That would be the fun part, as I could be a stay-at-home-mom minus the kids, do yoga to stay in physical and emotional shape, write an engaging and witty blog and oversee the management of numerous animal rescue centers I created instead of just making a small donation.
Once that was set and my hair looked fabulous because I could afford to go to a stylist, I would go around and do awesome things for random people—friends, strangers, those just needing a little lift. It sounds lame, but after I had taken care of the big items—and funded a Trader Joes in my town—that’s pretty much the thing I would most want to do.
It would make my heart happy.
I know, I know. There are things money can’t buy, like a prolonged life to spend all the money, a toned body, those authentic belly laughs that leave tears streaming down your face.
And I would still be cranky if it was nearing my feeding time, people would still annoy me when they say “conversate” and the dog would still pee into the wind.
However, these things would be much easier to deal with from my own tropical island working on my exotic container gardens while perfecting the slow-motion “Baywatch” jog (see above.)
Instead, I’m at home looking at the drunk squirrels doing somersaults in my waiting-to-be-planted garden and moving in slow motion because it’s Saturday and the week kicked my butt.
But while I still believe whoever said money can’t buy happiness wasn’t trying hard enough, for now, the squirrels will do.
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The million dollar question: Responsibilities aside, what completely ridiculous thing would you want to buy?