Livin’ on the Lotto

Two days ago we got Chris’ first student loan bill.  And then I went to bed for two days and refused to face any form of reality.  In my bed I dreamed of rendevous with Anthropology, Banana Republic, and Betsy Johnson.  I dreamed of nightly visits to the Sushi Palace.  I dreamed of new cars, new houses, and new shoes.  I dreamed of endless afternoons at Target, filling my cart with useless treasures like new face washes and scarves I would never wear.  And when I finally forced myself to get out of bed and face reality, the student loan invoice was, sadly, still sitting on my kitchen counter where I had dropped it in horror.

I get the feeling that student loans are one of those unexpected joys that life sometimes hands you – like the ice cream truck on a random Tuesday afternoon or a root canal.  I knew it was coming, but I still never expected it.  And so, here I sit.  Contemplating the sparse offerings of my checking and savings accounts and crying over our two paychecks which at one time seemed more than enough. I have always been a fan of saving for a rainy day.  But I think when you have student loans, you have a rainy day once a month when your bill arrives.  I’ll call it Monsoon Mondays.  On Monsoon Mondays, I will have to reach into my rainy day fund and hand over my humble earnings like I once handed over my lunch money to a bully.

Monsoon Mondays.  I see no way to avoid them, but I’m a proactive person.  I need a solution.  I need activism.  I need an answer.

I need to win the lottery.

That’s right.  In this situation, there is only one logical solution.  Play the lottery.  So I did.  This morning I bought at Connecticut Lottery ticket and a Powerball ticket.  I feel hopeful.  I mean, how hard can it be?  Someone has to win, and why shouldn’t it be me?  I wish I could submit an application in writing when I bought my ticket though.  I could have laid out our financial crisis, blamed the economy like everyone else, talked about our strong marriage and how of course we didn’t need money to be happy – we just need it to keep a roof over our heads and to feed our dogs because isn’t that what the American dream is all about?  Yeah, I bet I could have won the lottery with a written statement.

Sadly, they don’t ask for a written statement when you buy a lottery ticket.  The gas station clerk didn’t even look up at me.  So, here I sit.  With a mortgage payment, bills to pay, shoes to buy, and a student loan bill that makes me wish I had actually read the textbooks that are now costing me hundreds of dollars in interest.

But I have my lottery tickets.  And I’m hopeful…

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1 Comment

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One response to “Livin’ on the Lotto

  1. Good luck with that. I started my education on a full ride scholarship, and now that I’m getting ready to go back to school, I’m wishing I hadn’t failed that one miserable computer class. I liked having free money. Maybe I should play the lottery.