Yes this weekend, as with every day after a big lotto payout, we are all getting to grips with the shocking news that we aren't multimillionaires. I imagine I am not alone in rather enjoying the excitement of spending money in my head on the commute home - purchase number one clearly being a chauffeur to transport me to work. Actually I probably wouldn't bother going to work now I think of it. I can while away the journey, tailgating to my heart's content, imagining my Shelby Cobra or vintage Aston Martin. I imagine living the lifestyle of the Heat magaziners who seem to need a 'break' or a 'getaway' every 2 to 3 weeks. What stressful work is it that they do that requires so much time to unwind? Poor oppressed people. I think about what percentage I would have to give to charity to make myself feel good and, of course, to make me look generous. I think about upgrading the pavilion on my village cricket green, and maybe hiring Mike Atherton to open the batting - he popped into 'my' pub on Saturday so he knows how to find us.
You see, it's fun. It's also planning. Because I might win. Due to the fact that clearly like almost everyone, I don't ever win, this is the fun part for me - the chase. However it appears that fortune does not favour the planners. He who has already searched out the best investment opportunities to live off the interest of say a £2.6 million win, or investigated if his £4.9 million win will stretch to a villa on Lake Como whilst maintaining sufficient monies to fund a jet-set lifestyle sans work shall not win. If he is planning on moving out of his house even, it seems the Gods do not smile upon him. Nope, the only people who win the big bucks trot out the same old nonsense:
"We shan't let it change us - we like our life here in our crap little house with our crap little cars."
It rather makes you wonder… why on earth did you buy the sodding ticket?
I just don't get it. Why would you buy tickets to win a life-changing amount of money if you want to keep your life exactly as it is? I'm not suggesting our lives are meaningless and hollow without untold millions - contrary to the general tone of my blog I'm pretty contented - but why stick your money in if you don't want to do anything with the windfall?
I'm happy with my lot, but it doesn't meant I wouldn't mind a couple more spondoolicks to throw about the place. Or 161 million of them. I'm not greedy though, I'd be content with one of those pathetic £4 million midweek draws - you know, the ones that are barely worth playing. Plus, it exercises the mind more working out what to do when you have to consider living off interest versus large capital expenditure - the sort of 'problems' £1.9 million wins give you. It's just a bit easy when you win £161 million, because you can buy everything and still have loads left over.
So there it is folks, the great travesty of the lottery system. It seems the cash is always destined to end up with either the yobbish Michael Carrolls of this world who will spend their loot in a way that would make East Coast rappers look both stylish and conservative or the Colin and Chris Weirs who seem to have no desire to do anything differently at all. either way, it ends up with people who simply haven't put in the necessary thought. I don't begrudge them the money, I simply would rather if I'm destined to live my multimillionaire's life vicariously (highly likely), couldn't they at least have a plan? I guess it's like being an armchair critic - you see, I have a feeling I'd be such a good multimillionaire, if only someone would give me the chance. Suppose I should meet them halfway by at least buying a ticket...
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