I had to gas up the rental and what the fuck, I went inside to buy a Powerball ticket. The gas station didn't sell them, they said.
Since I had time to kill, then I went to 7-11 to make my purchase. I figured $500MM would allow me not only to quit my job, but charter my own jet to take me directly to the town of my choosing.
Alas, it was not meant to be. California does not participate in the Powerball.
All my dreams of
I suppose all is not lost. I'm writing this before the drawing...or around the time of the drawing...so maybe no one will have won and I can risk the $2 and invest in my future. Well, 710's and my future....and Petey and Sophie. Sure I want to travel the world, but don't want to leave them behind.
I cannot believe it is only Thursday. Maybe I should have titled this post "Eight Days a Week"....because fuck if it doesn't feel that way. I suppose it's the perils of starting work travel on Sunday.
The only good I can think of going to EWR (that's Newark) is that I get a few hundred more miles tacked on to my quest for Platinum status. It's going to go down to the wire, like last year. Fortunately, or un, I will most likely make it. Good for me, but how very sad.
I have an exit aisle. Yes, the seat won't recline, but I'll have extra leg room, so maybe I won't get that DVT I always seemingly feel in my right thigh.
Ok....I guess I'll get back to reading, instead of writing. I've started re-reading the Hobbit. I haven't read it since freshman year of high school....which was like the Paleolithic era. In theory, I only have to read one-third of it since they're breaking the movie in to three parts.
Of course, I'm hoping I'm asleep after the flight attendant asks me if I'll save the other passengers if we crash. I always lie and say I will. Baby, it's every man for himself.
Song by: Dan Fogelberg & Tim Weisberg