If I Won the Lottery

I've passed the last hour or so thinking about what I would do if I won the lottery. California's MegaMillions is estimated to be about $64 million right now, and, even though I didn't buy a ticket, and even though I don't really play the lottery, I still thought about what I would do if I won. It's funny how specific my plans are, even though I don't play it. I wonder if I should start? A dollar a week or something? It's unlikely that I'd win, but then, maybe I would.

The funny thing is that the greatest pleasure in winning for me would not come from finally being released from financial woes (because I know that lots of money has its own problems), but from being able to fix the things in the lives of the people I care about which are related to money. I mean, for example, let's say I take the pay-out -- $41 million. Starting with my parents, I'd pay off their house, and give them a few million, so they could retire in comfort. Nothing fancy or frivolous, just comfortable retirement, so they can travel and my dad can bird, and my mom can finally get to all those projects she's been planning for years. I think I'd probably ask them to keep working, though, just a little bit longer, just because I think they're too young to retire yet. Then my soon-to-be-ex-husband. I'd give him a few million, so that he could be free of his parents, and other expectations of failure. Then he could go on with school or graduate school, or invest it, or write, or do whatever he wanted. I mean, theoretically, if he were intelligent, he would invest it, and live off the interest. $3 million dollars, spent at $50,000 a year, would last for 60 years. That's something to think about. So, say I've spent about $6 million -- I still have $35 million left.

I'd pay off my friend's house for him, and give another friend enough money to go and open a brewery in Japan -- his life-long dream. Then I'd probably pay off my sister and her husband's house, so that my sister wouldn't have to work, and could just stay home and be with her baby (who will be born soon!!! I'm going to be an aunt!!!). As for my brother . . . well, I'd probably give him enough money to go travel, or go back to school, or do something different with his life than what he's doing now.  He's young -- he deserves freedom from so much.  But I'd have provisions in there.  It wouldn't be free money.  I'd also probably give a million or so to my aunt, so that she could stop trying to find work at 60+, and just enjoy the years she won back from cancer.

So, let's say I've given away another $5 million. That leaves me $30 million. What else would I do? I'd do a few selfish things: pay off my school loans, buy a house or two, invest the bulk of it. I'd still apply to grad school, and seriously hope that I'd be accepted, because I think I'd really like it . . . and I can't imagine not working, doing something useful and productive, for the rest of my life. I mean, I'm only 29 (soon to be 30, but not talking about that right now). I'd travel -- see all the places I've wanted to see, but not been able to, because of time and, more importantly, money: England, Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada, Russia. . . . I'd set up a home-base somewhere, with lots of acreage and animals -- horses, sheep, chickens, dogs, cats, geese, ducks, that sort of thing. I'd buy a Steinway, and build a library for myself -- a two-story library, with lots of comfortable armchairs for reading, and then I'd fill the library with thousands and thousands of books. The tempting thing would just be to put work on hold forever, and do nothing but read and read and read and read. But that's too self-indulgent. I would probably do it for a year or two, though. Do nothing but read, and play with my animals, and cross-stitch, and swim. . . .

Speaking of animals, I'd definitely put a few million dollars into building a rescue for domestic pets -- a no-kill shelter, and probably give another few million to Big Cat Rescue, which is my charity-of-choice. They rescue big cats -- lions, tigers, leopards -- from all over, and are always desperately in need of money.

So that's what I'd do if I won the lottery. I'm sure there are other things I'd do that I haven't thought of, but I'm pretty happy with what I've got now. The things that winning the lottery would do for me -- help me make the people I love happier and more comfortable, allow me to help the people and animals that I want to help -- would give me peace of mind and contentment, I think. I know that money can't solve all my problems, and I know that it can bring with it its own issues, but I would try not to let it dominate me. That's not to say that I wouldn't have a wonderful time building and furnishing my houses, and shopping for books and "feathers" and things. It would be nice to finally have enough money to buy, for example, a black Coach purse, or a set of happy yellow dishes from Crate and Barrel, and it would be lovely to just see something and be able to buy it. But I think that I'd rather forget it was there, and just enjoy the contentment it affords, if that's at all possible.

Of course, not buying lottery tickets puts all of this beyond the bounds of the practically reachable. But it's fun to dream.

A Very Dull Post

I just finished watching Wall-E, one of the last movies Pixar has done (second-to-last, I think, just before Up). It is such a darling movie, and it never fails to make me cry -- just when Ev-a thinks she's saved Wall-E, and then he doesn't know her . . . oh, it's just so sweet and sad. I've only seen it a handful of times, probably because of the fact that it makes me cry, but I think it's even better than Up. Up was darling. But it was predictable. You knew what was going to happen. There were no surprises. And the premise, while clever, wasn't that surprising, either. Wall-E was clever, and surprising, and not entirely predictable, and also had that bittersweet edge to it that I think marks some of Pixar's better movies, like The Incredibles and Finding Nemo. You weren't as invested in what was at stake in Up, but in Wall-E -- well, who doesn't want to go home? And one of the really amazing things with Wall-E, one of the things that gets overlooked about it, is the fact that there is almost no dialogue. And the main character, Wall-E, communicates his sweetness and vulnerability and dedication almost completely through gestures and his oft-repeated "Ev-a". It's an amazing testament to the talents of Pixar.

So now I have Spinal Tap on in the background, principally because I've seen it a million times, and I don't have to pay too much attention to it. Talk about a movie with a bittersweet edge. It's like all Christopher Guest's movies. They're just hilarious and painfully bitter at the same time. There isn't one of his movies that isn't both insanely funny and painfully bittersweet -- This Is Spinal Tap, Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, A Mighty Wind. . . . The only Christopher Guest movie I wasn't crazy about was the last one, For Your Consideration. I wonder if he'll do anymore, but the fact that he hasn't written/directed another one since (and this was in 2006), and the fact of its rather crappy reception, probably means he won't -- or at least, not for awhile. Which is really too bad, because he had an incredible cast by the end there. The first four, though, they're really exceptionally good movies. I love each and every one of them.

This post doesn't really have a purpose. It's just an attempt to avoid some homework. I've made some lists of things I need to do, and I know that I should really be doing them, but I don't want to do them. It's all part of the malaise I've been dealing with lately, where all I really want to do is piss about, and not actually do anything productive, unless it's creative productivity (writing, cross-stitching, reading, etc.). Anything that I'm "supposed" to do is for some reason anathema to me. I think it might just be that I'm totally burnt out. I need a break. A break from life, really, but a break of any kind would be good. I suppose the best that I can hope for is a break from school, but I'm crossing my fingers for my unemployment insurance. I'm just hoping that comes through. If it does, then I don't need to worry about work or anything for a few months at least, which I desperately need. I'm still trying to figure out where my life is going, and what I'm doing, and what I want, and I haven't had any spare moments to think about it. So I'm hoping that over the summer I get a chance to get some perspective on things.

This is an abominably dull post. I think I'll end it now before I send everyone into terminal boredom. Good night, all.

Freedom!!! (Must be said in an elongated, Braveheart fashion.)

So, today was the last day of my job as a "Web Accessibility Consultant". Thank the great heavens above, no more stupid, boring, pointless, useless work! Of course, it wasn't pleasant, because my boss cried a lot, and said she felt like she "failed" me, and all I could think was, "Freedom!!!" I felt badly, obviously, because I don't like people to cry, and I don't like people to feel that they failed me, and, of course, it doesn't do good things for my finances (I mean, I was working two jobs for a reason), but . . . but . . . I'm free, I'm free, I'm free! I'll worry about money later; right now, the only thing I can think about is the fact that I'm no longer in the straight-jacket of 9-5-like work. I discovered long ago that I am fundamentally unsuited to that type of work, and that I simply cannot make myself do it for very long. I think one of the most important things to realize about yourself is what you can do, and do well, and what will make you happy and comfortable. I have realized that I cannot do 9-5 work, and do it well. It becomes suffocating, and I inevitably find myself rebelling in small ways -- without even realizing it. To have to be in the same place, day after day after day after day, at the same time every day, and getting in trouble if I'm not -- because I do get in trouble, because I'm not good at getting there on time. . . . It's just more than I can handle.

The funny thing is, I'm NEVER late to class. Why? I recognize that class will begin, with or without me, and that there is a specific period of time where the discussion will occur, and then it will be over. I was never late for meetings, I was never late when I ran trainings -- but work? For God's sake, what does it matter if I'm ten or twenty minutes late? The work will get done, and no one needs me the moment I walk into work. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, no more, no more, no more! The fact that I have to, until I get my Ph.D., and become a professor, depend on this kind of work is suffocating. In fact, I don't even like being locked into a schedule for tutoring. I prefer to log on when I can, do some tutoring, and log off when I'm done. I prefer freelancing. I'll get it done, and it'll be done beautifully, don't worry, and I can even work to deadlines (papers, yes, many papers written to deadlines for classes), but don't stand over me, and demand that I work these particular hours!

I am not, in any way, trying to disparage people who can work in the typical work environment. I admire those people, to be honest. But I simply cannot tolerate it, and I think that recognizing it is extremely important for both my sanity, and the sanity of my employers. I would hate to employ me in this kind of job; my inability to be "on time" all the time would probably make me insane, too. In fact, when I had to supervise people, I hated having to make sure they were there on time. I felt the way about them that I feel about me: I don't care if you're 20 minutes late or so, as long as the work gets done. I think I am just totally incapable of working in any kind of a structured fashion.

And now that I've got that down, I can't help but wonder if this was an answer to a quiet prayer I put up last night? I was sitting there, looking at the pile of work I have to do, and the paper-of-torment, and all the research that I'm still trying to condense into 20-25 pages (which seems like so much, but when you've already written, in some form or another, close to 50 damn pages, isn't at all), and thought about how much I have to work-in-order-to-make-money on top of all the work-in-order-to-make-my-life-worth-living, I had a mild panic attack. I mean, I'm taking three classes this quarter (four if one counts the paper-of-torment, and believe me, I do), and I'm working 30-ish hours a week, which leaves me time for . . . nothing! Yes, nothing! Not an ounce of spare time, which is overwhelming and is creating a desire for self-destruction within me. So, last night, I calmly sat down, and tried to organize what I needed to do to be successful, had my mild panic attack when I realized there were literally not enough hours in the day to do it all, and went to bed, terrified and, at the same time, strangely at peace. There wasn't time enough to do it all, so clearly, something would have to go. And today? It did.

It was obviously not planned, this last day of work. But it seems that I argued myself out of a job on Monday, by refusing to do something I knew was wrong. Not unethical, technically, but conforming to standards and ideals with which I do not -- emphatically do not -- agree. So, when asked to do so by my boss, I said no, at great length, giving my reasons and justifications, and apparently, that was that. (I bet this strikes a blow for those who say I'm argumentative. So maybe I am.) I wish I weren't so relieved over the whole situation. But I am. I am saying good-bye to a great deal of stupidity (I once compared my boss and her student assistant to two misfiring synapses), a great deal of miscommunication arising from said stupidity, a great deal of boredom, and a great deal of guilt for not giving a shit about the job I'm doing, but knowing that I should be grateful to the people who gave me the job, and that they deserve better/more out of me than they're getting. I have had several suggestions since I learned I was out of a job for making more money, and I will probably explore some of them. Currently, the most important thing for me is to make sure that I finish this quarter well. I MUST. That takes precedence over everything else. What I do now affects the rest of my life profoundly. If I have to starve for a month or so, well, it's not like I can't handle that. But to let school fail? Never! So I'll keep on tutoring, will up my hours, most likely, will take on freelance work as a writer, and will deal with a "real" job at the end of the quarter.

If only my boss hadn't cried. That's what's making me feel so badly. If only she hadn't cried.