“…I’d be rich.” Well, obviously. But I probably wouldn’t tell you about it. Don’t take it personally, but if I had the choice between “rich and non-famous” and “rich and famous,” I’d pick wealth and obscurity every time.
Until Friday afternoon I had absolutely no idea that the Powerball jackpot had rolled up into the largest jackpot in lottery history. I was chatting with a co-worker who had also worked a full day despite the fact that our building was without power. (What can I say? We’re dedicated.)
“I’m off on Monday, so see you Tuesday,” he said as he walked away down the hall. “Unless I hit the Powerball.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“It’s up to 1.5 billion.”
“Billion?”
“BILLION.”
I rarely play the lottery, but $2 seemed like a small price to pay for a shot at unimaginable wealth. Apparently many other people felt the same way, because by the time I purchased a ticket on Saturday morning the pot had climbed to $1.6 billion. I actually spent $3 on the ticket; when the clerk asked me if I wanted to get the $1 multiplier it sounded like a pretty good investment.
Like many others, I spent part of my weekend thinking about all of the things I could do with such an amount of money. I’m fairly certain that my creativity would run out before the money did.
At first, all I could think of were small changes: make rent, then give a couple of years’ worth to my landlord as I get ready to buy a house. Come to think of it, I could go ahead and buy the new house and take as much time as I wanted to move into it.
I could get the piano tuned. (After it’s been moved into the new house. Don’t want to pay to tune it twice!)
I wouldn’t race out and get a new car, but I probably would make an appointment to get the electronic clock working again in the 2002 Forester. I miss not having a clock in the car.
I’d pay off Eldest’s student loans unless Uncle Joe does it first.
Then I might make an appointment with my campus’s Chancellor to discuss where to put the new classroom building, filled with high-tech rooms on which the College of Letters and Sciences has dibs.
We could dedicate the new building with a concert by the remaining acts on my bucket list: Barenaked Ladies opening for Sir Paul McCartney, with special guest Peter Mulvey and anyone he wants to invite.
Maybe there will be enough money left over to add on a sun porch with a lap pool. (To the house, not the classroom building.)
And maybe I’ll get a pony.
Knitwise, I finished up the triangle piece and wove in the [TWO] ends. Because it’s almost all stockinette, It will need to be washed and blocked to get it into a stable shape. Right now all it can do is curl. I did pretty well at estimating the amount of remaining yarn and got the final few rows in the bright green I was hoping for. I just measured the leftovers to be about 14 feet, so I could have played a little Yarn Chicken — but I did not want this project to do anything to make me anxious or frustrated. I’ll save the end of the ball for wool colorwork or duplicate stitching in a future project.
Now, what project will be next? Something impressive as a gift for a friend? Something simple and warm for winter? Something to finish now that was started long ago? Or will something from the Stash cry out and say, “Make me!”
Chocolate Sheep 