Or did We? (You all remember how I show respect with Capitalization, right?)
Literally, we did not win the Florida Powerball. Not on the 31st or the 7th or the 14th. We just recently started religiously buying lottery tickets. I was inspired by a little story within Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. (If you haven't read it. Do. Right now. For real. GO!) It involves a poor man who goes to the cathedral every day for years begging God to let him win the lottery. Finally, an exasperated God bellows back, "Would you please buy a ticket?!!" I giggled at my own folly and bought a fucking ticket and then another and then another. So far I've won more tickets that didn't win. Hey, it's a start.
Roulette (and Craps) of life - I didn't hit SuperMom when I was born or when I gave birth, I'm ashamed to admit. I did manage Survivor when I broke out of her cell and Tough as Nails when my own babies broke from mine. I figure that I'm beating the house odds which has to be remarkable at this old age of mine. (I turned 31 last weekend, and I'm still waiting for the lightning strike of epiphany that I usually get around my birthday. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Oh! Crap! Is that the epiphany? My fucking clock!?!)
On the other hand, a FLUSH! (We couldn't possibly qualify as a straight:) - I crack myself up, I swear I do. Like a flush, there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to our family and then Oh! Right!, they're all wearing the same suit! OK - clearly this has gone on too long.
Look, here it is. My life is great. I've been bitching and moaning and feeling pretty damn sorry for myself. It's total bullshit and I'm a whiny baby and I'm tired of feeling like a charity case that makes excuses after excuses after not doing a damn thing to make anything better.
So there! The lottery draws again on Saturday. What are the chances?