While the rest of our country is standing in line for Powerball tickets, I just laugh and pat my pocket, one dollar richer than you. I’ve just never believed in the lottery. My husband, who would prefer to spend his dollar on a sticker, doesn’t care enough to disagree with me, but tries to get me to elaborate on my conspiracy theories – but I won’t bite. I just don’t believe in it – for me.
I think life is all about keeping balance as the world spins around us. In order for you to remain in balance, you simply can’t have it all – it disrupts the scale.
If you have too much on the positive side, inevitably life will throw in the negative. Maybe it’s The Russian in me. Maybe you’re rich in money but not so much in love. Maybe you have career success but have medical trials. Or maybe any number of life’s gazillion combinations of stories. We usually don’t end up “having it all” – that’s just not the nature of the game. Life’s a constant reminder that you can’t have joy without pain, you can’t have light without dark, and you certainly can’t win the Powerball if you already won the lottery of life. That’s me.
How can I expect (or risk) to win the money lottery if I’ve already had so much luck in love, in kids, in life? All the women in my family reading this right now are instantly knocking the closest piece of wood they can find and spitting three times over their left shoulder. How can I say something like that out loud? I’m jinxing myself – or worse yet, tempting others to be jealous of me. But I’m not worried about that (anymore).
I just stay away from the lottery. I don’t want to tempt fate. I don’t want to tip the scales of life against me. If I’m destined for millions, I’ll have to write my way towards them.
My father loves to edge me on to try to appeal to my hypersensitive ‘what if’ sensors. He thinks that will make the best story yet – the non-believer ends up becoming the believer by WINNING! Or better yet, he thinks life’s irony will bless me; as in, the one who doesn’t ask will get rewarded. But I refuse to bite. Not even for the chance at $1.5 billion. Not even for a dollar. I dream for free – and work for dollars. (Hire me!)