On Christmas Day, 28 members of the extended family decided to go in together (at $5/couple) and have someone drive to West Virginia to buy lottery tickets for the big Powerball jackpot; someone said that if we won each couple would get about $8 million pre-tax. I’d already spent a fair chunk of my half of Jeff’s and my millions and drafted my resignation letter, in my head, when I found out late last night that our numbers were not the winning ones after all.
So, it’s back to work on Monday. And no early retirement and a life of leisure jetting between our estates in California, Virginia, Edinburgh and a private island somewhere.
One thought on “poor me”
Oh, I see, you didn’t win. Sorry, I couldn’t read that clearly, what with the dollar signs in my eyes. Ha. Love ya, babe.
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