Didn't Win

Billion Dollar Power Ball
Damn, that’s too bad I didn’t win, because I had it all figured out. First I had planned on sharing the news with only one person in the entire world, my wife. We would vow not to let anyone know until at least three months had passed and the hype had died down. During that time we could spend our savings on wardrobes and vacations and jewelry or whatever, but only our personal funds, nothing special. The first person we would tell after the three months would be our lawyer. Then she could arrange how to proceed. In Massachusetts there is no right to anonymity for winners, so I would have to get my name changed, then accept my winnings, and then change my name back to what it was before. Hopefully that’s legal… that’s why I need the lawyer. Once the money hit the bank, I’d do some simple remodeling to my house and then sell it, move in a little closer to Boston, then buy a condo on the Common for fun. I’d also invest, very little, in real estate back home in Illinois, just so we’d have a place to stay when visiting family. I’d gift as much as I could to my closest relatives without them getting killed by charities or taxes. I’d buy more real estate in hip areas of the country, maybe a ski chalet, something tropical, a cozy northwest cabin. Probably buy a villa in Italy and a condo overlooking Central Park, why not? Then I guess I’d try to go back to life as usual. I don’t really want to shock my kids with any major changes. They need stability as they go to grade school. The best part about the billion would be that feeling of, ‘Hey, it’s okay.’ It’s okay to order take-out again this week, it’s okay—we’ll have plenty for college tuition, it’s okay to buy that car and throw in the deluxe heated seats and moonroof. Not that I would go buy a Bentley or something, but maybe a nice Acura. I was raised on a budget and that’s a mold I don’t think I want to break. I’d still complain about the prices of popcorn at the movie theatre, and I’d drive the extra mile for gas that’s three cents cheaper. Even with all the money in the world, I wouldn’t want to waste it, or knowingly get ripped off. I’d give a ton of cash to charities if they promised that they would never ask me for more, and if they could prove exactly where my money was going, and that I wasn’t just padding a CEO’s wallet. I would avoid all politics, I don’t trust any of them. I would need an accountant I could trust though, and a great travel agent. Hmm… what else?
Well at least some good came out of the six bucks I spent on three tickets that could’ve totally changed everything. It was a great writing prompt. And my chances are still open. Me getting a novel published has just slightly better odds than lotto.