Despair comes in many shapes and sizes but none quite as off-putting as having to return to work the day after not winning the Mega Millions lottery. Actually, it’s been two days, but I spent all day yesterday formally grieving in a bathtub of caramel-covered marshmallows. It was a sticky situation.
I have never played the lottery before but something told me this time I should. Naturally, I figured that something was God. God, reaching his long, stiff arm down from the kingdom and guiding me towards heaven which, in this situation–no, in every situation–is a shitload of money. I now know that wasn’t God’s arm pushing me along …
I knew there was a reason I don’t believe in God. I’ll start believing in Him, the day the Colorado Lottery starts believing in me, and not a damn second sooner.
The life plans and dreams that are destroyed by this loss—indescribable. The joy of walking into the office and telling everyone to go fuck themselves—unrealized. The thought of living without millions of dollars to my name–unpleasant.
I had a list the size of a lottery ticket detailing how I would
blow invest my winnings:
Alas, all that is lost and I am stuck with only one cat, no condo, and a losing lottery ticket. But at least I still have this awesome cat shirt. Surely someone in Japan is bound to buy this back from me for $120 million.