I would not quit my job though. Primarily because I like my job. But also because it’s a long life to live with no purpose and direction. Maybe down the road I’d find a new purpose and direction or scale back to part time or something. But in the short term, I’d stay. Although my tolerance for stupidity would probably go down and I’d be significantly less likely to restrain myself from pointing it out. And is it wrong that I wouldn’t want to tell my employer or all my coworkers that I had won? Because I wouldn’t. Not all. Just some. Just sayin.
I’d have a professional landscaper/designer attempt to make it pretty because we currently have a dog poop filled yard we’ve done nothing with because the dogs that produce all the poop also eat anything pretty we try to have in our yard. I’d give up on having flowers and just shoot for sturdy stuff my dogs won’t eat like decorative rocks and shrubs.
I’d also use the extra space to build my husband a freestanding workshop with electricity, plumbing, central heat and air and enough space for all his tool related crap. I’d put in nice windows so he could watch the kids swim while he works in there or maybe doors that open up so completely it’s almost like his workshop is an extension of the pool area when the doors are open.
|I like how far the doors open on this workshop.|
I’d also consider expanding my house. I don’t know that we “need” a bigger house. But if this is crazy money, who the hell’s even thinking about “need” anymore? I might as well have a guest room, an office and an exercise room. I suppose the kids could have a playroom too. You know, other than every room in our house. Because that’s where their crap is now. Sigh.
I’d buy my husband the new car of his choosing. I wouldn’t even go to the dealership with him to buy it or weigh in on the decision in any way. I’d just witness him pulling up in the new car with a smile on his face. He’s been driving my old car lately and it has many fun features as a result of hitting 100,000 miles including a keyless entry system that no longer works. Remember back in the day when you used to have to insert the key into the car door? Well, we’re back in that day doing that every day. And the back right door is permanently child proofed and you have to open the door for your nine year old every time you get out even though she’s long since proven herself trustworthy with doors.
|The old car. Our definition of a make it work moment: Walking out of walmart with 4 cheapo plastic Addirondak chairs and realizing we incorrectly assumed we'd driven there in our SUV. Classic.|
She’d also magically appear and disappear in the night to leave lunches packed. And our cupboards would always be stocked with snacks we like and fruit that doesn’t have fungus on it.
The nanny would be sweet and fun but still firm and a guiding presence. She would be capable of reading minds and knowing when I’m stuck in traffic and jet over to be where I should have been and her presence would be so warm and soothing that my kids would not complain or want to know where I was when I walk in 4 ½ minutes late. Because it’s 4 ½ minutes not Armageddon so maybe we should all keep it in perspective.
I’d hire a personal trainer. Someone I like and with a great sense of humor. Perky but not annoying. Firm and motivating but not Jillian. They’d call to wake me up before they got there and they’d always have lots of interesting stories to tell me while we work out. The kind of interesting stories that would make me not want to cancel because I’m waiting to hear how things turn out with their cousin’s trip to Aruba with the crack head boyfriend with no job and a suspended driver’s license. They’d also have a magic wand capable of eliminating my Jelly Belly and firming up my rear.
|The view running with my husband. Ideally, my personal trainer would instead run next to me and talk endlessly to keep me entertained.|
I’d also do some investing. I’d sink money into products I believe in. Groundbreaking humanitarian efforts like figuring out how to make the Nacho Bell Grande at Taco Bell calorie free and removing all the fat from McDonald’s french fries. While they’re at it, they could make vitamins that taste like fluffy cupcakes with butter cream icing. Lots and lots of icing. And how to grow spinach and broccoli that tastes like creamy fettuccini alfredo.
So, now all I need to do is figure out how to win the lottery without actually having to pay hard earned dollars for the tickets or having to enter a 7 Eleven.