My Crazy Is Boringly Normal

I don’t think many of my readers are lottery buyers. Unless you are from a Latin family then maybe your grandpa or your single elderly aunt played the lottery. In my house, my dad and the maids played the lottery and although they never won anything significant, they compared how their numbers did and kept tabs on who was closest. I buy powerball every Sunday with the the Sunday edition of the New York Times which I have mostly read online already, but Ray hasn’t, and we like to diss the articles out loud during coffee. So I sometimes win the two bucks I spent, but almost never. That did not stop me from freaking out last night worrying about how I had ruined my life and the lives of those I loved if I won the 1.5 billion powerball. I worried that I did not know a trust and estates lawyer and that if I went cold calling they would hand me to an associate and not a partner. I worried about guessing which of my in laws was likely to sue me and that my sister would be furious that I would not choose her to be my private banker.  I  got sad about having to move because my house was to close to the street and it has too many windows. I worried that the only thing I really wanted funds for was to go back to India, and I needed a bigger bucket list if I was going to be handed one half of 1.5 billion USD. I even got scared about not being able to give it away because after giving to my alma mater, and the two other non profits I support, I have no idea who to choose plus my family would get even more mad. I even  got up and did a search on what to do if you won. and bookmarked it just in case. Maybe all of our worries are this ridiculous. Every one of our “what ifs” are this nutty, guaranteed.


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