I bought a mega millions ticket.
You know things are tight if I buy a lottery ticket, singular. Finances may be dire but that doesn’t make me a fool. One lottery ticket is fine; it’s a tiny dream- like wishing on one star for 161 million other stars to align. A bundle of lottery tickets is a desperation move and if I were going to take that route, I would buy myself a $100 dollar pair of Skechers Shape Up Toning Shoes and develop a Plan B that features my improved bottom and pays me money for it (or have the Kardashians beaten me to it?)
Plan C includes consulting the Feng Shui book then cleaning all the windows in the house. According Feng Shui, money cannot find its way into your home if the windows are dirty. On the plus side, neither can Jehovah’s Witnesses- all you have to do is duck below the grime and whisper.
But I’m not worried- I’m too busy being what my workforce counselor calls “proactive.” “Pro” from the Latin indicating “favoring” and “activ” from an infomercial meaning “acne control.” My employment counselor has great skin.
Besides, there are always scratch-offs which, as of today, equate to $500 A Week LESS for Life (for me). I swear, as soon as the boy turns 18, I’m buying the “For Life” lottery tickets for him, The Prince of Longevity.
I call that Plan W. As in “What becomes of Grown Ups with English Degrees?”
You know what happens to grown-ups with English degrees. They stand on one foot then the other trying to think of something witty to say that does not sound as if it came from a student paper. Nice piece!
Catching up on your blog. I am always entertained by your words. Can’t wait to hear about the mayo.