I didn't win the Powerball.
So goodbye, island with personal chef. Goodbye, voyage around the world.
Hello, children's lingering student loans and a 30-year mortgage.
And hello, Monday morning.
I knew you'd be back.
Powerball does get us dreaming, doesn't it?
That's why I put money into the biggest lottery ever. The practical me knew I might as well unroll my window and throw a $20 bill into the icy 10-below air. But my friends were in a frenzy, willing to stand in line to buy me tickets. My workmates were selling dreams at their desk. People were kinder in traffic, too, or maybe I'm just making that up.
I get that it's fun to play the "what if?" game, to imagine a cloud-free existence of happiness, freedom and philanthropy. What I don't get is why we assume we can't play that game unless Powerball swoops in to get the party started.