If I Were a Rich Woman

A couple of weeks ago, two people finally hit the Mega Million Dollar lottery, splitting $648 million dollars, the 2nd largest lottery prize in U.S. history.

I was not one of those people.  

This would have been even more disappointing if I had actually played the lottery.  I mean to play when the stakes get that high - I do! - but I've never been much of a gambler. I don't want to spend my money unless I'm assured that I would win some money, which means I actually philosophically reject the very definition of gambling.  Besides when the prizes get that high, the lines for lottery tickets get  so long at the Sunoco station where I buy my coffee, and I really just want to get my decaf and get out of there.

Nonetheless, this does not stop Mr. Rip and me from thinking about how we'd spend all that money if we did somehow win the lottery, which really would be a miracle since the odds against winning are even higher if you don't buy a ticket.   He feels strongly that we should take the annual annuity over the lump sum payment, which is fine with me if we win $324 million  dollars.

Of course, it goes without saying that we'd make sure our families are taken care of, because we love our families more than anything and would do anything for them. We'd buy new cars (if Mr. Rip could part with his Caravan), and we would travel more.

We love our house so much I'm not sure we'd move even if we had several million dollars, but we would probably spring for a second condo in a warm dry climate where we could spend the winter.  Mr. Rip would be on the phone about bids on that kitchen remodel before the first lottery check arrived.  I'd hold off on ordering the new dining room set I've been wanting until we see what that remodel looks like.

But other than that, what would I buy if money were no object?

Shoes and socks that fit.     Yes, that's right, I would hire one of the Easy Spirit designers to make customized shoes in the styles that I like that fit these funny feet of mine perfectly.  No more scouring the racks of the local outlet stores (since Easy Spirit closed all their retail stores within 100 miles of my house) for that elusive 7 WW or settling for some other size that just fits "well enough."  And I would get socks made so that the heel of my sock sat at the heel of my foot rather than on my ankle.

A bathroom door that opens outward.  My bathroom is the size and shape of a small arrowhead.  It is, however, totally functional, and has a kick-ass mirror that also doubles as a medicine cabinet door.  For some reason, the door opens into this bathroom, effectively blocking access to half of the arrowhead and sometimes requiring some interesting contortions to get into the space.  Changing that would cost just a fraction of my millions.

Macadamia nuts. I would no longer reluctantly pass on the $13.99 jar of macadamia nuts at the supermarket, looking longingly back at them as I walk away.

Hillary Clinton for President. Mind you, I realize I couldn't actually buy her the presidency, but her campaign would receive a much more substantial donation than the $25.00 I might send her now.  And it would be my treat if she'd agree to have lunch with me.  

Musical revues. Actually we would buy or build a small theater where Mr. Rip, our friends and I could put on musical revues or other theatrical productions, as we see fit.

A two-car garage. Our perfect home would be even more perfect with a two-car garage.  Of course, there probably isn't enough money in the world to convince our housing association to let us do that.