Dream With Me

Today I thought I’d do something I haven’t done in a while:  Be ridiculous.  Well, I mean, I’ve been pretty ridiculous from birth, but you can’t see that.  

Anyway.  You guys.  Can we talk about the Power Ball for a minute?  $1.3 Billion.  BILLION.  That is an insane amount of money.  And though I know I have a better chance of immaculately conceiving dead Michael Jackson’s baby than I do of winning, I thought I would put down my game plan for all to see.  You know, that way if I disappear from this blog forever, you’ll have some idea what I’m doing with my new amazingly weathly life.  

Stop rolling your eyes.  

Ok.  So let’s say I somehow win the Power Ball and manage not to go into cardiac arrest and die (Step one of my plan right there, folks.) the first thing I do with this money is buy a new house.  Now, I don’t need anything crazy.  Just maybe a nice 4 bedroom job so that everyone has their own bedroom and I have a craft room.  Or maybe we make more humans.  I don’t know.  Maybe make it 5 bedrooms.  Just in case.  

Now that purchase is going to be tricky for a number of reasons.  For example:  do I stay in New Jersey?  I love my state and currently can’t afford to live here (snort) but if I won the lottery I’d have my pick of any house I wanted.  BUT.  I could also afford to move pretty much any where and move any one close to me that was willing to go as well.  My circle and I could pretty much claim a town as our own if we wanted to.  Decisions, decisions.  

Next up, I would trade in my mini van for some kind of luxury mom-mobile.  Maybe a Land Rover.  Or something equally large to hog the road with my offspring.  Check. 

OH!  Have to upgrade that house again.  Make it 6 bedrooms.  I need a room for my purses.  Both existing and amazing new ones.  Why own a $20,000 bag?  Why, to carry around the rest of my money of course.  I’ll take 5.  And some for Christmas presents.  

My kids would have awesome wardrobe.  That they would no doubt destroy, because: kids.  

I would hire the personal chefs and trainors that magically transform celebrities back to the pre-baby bodies.  Or call a really good doctor.  But I will lie and say I’ll try diet and exercise first.  

I’d also like to lie and say I wouldn’t take in anymore animals.  But I might.  I probably would.  I need like one miniature donkey.  Just one.  

House cleaner.  Enough said.  

That pretty much covers the basics.  I am poor and have no idea how far $1.3 Billion would carry me.  None.  I’d like to think I’ll have money left over.  And I’ll be smart and invest some.  Put enough away that college is covered for both my kids.  

Nothing big.  Nothing too crazy… 
My husband said he’s going to sit on all the money and not let me have any.  We’ll see about that folks.  We. Shall.  See.

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