|Codes, magical codes|
Joe is currently the firehouse "treasurer" (translation: guy who fills the vending machines). Don't repeat that, please. He feels he's finally putting that EIU finance degree to good use.
Regardless, the position has its perks. Every time Joe fills the pop machines, he tears out the codes for his crazy code-collecting wife. I'm Chicago's version of John Nash in A Beautiful Mind. If there's a code which can lead to a free t-shirt or monogrammed towel, by God...I'll find it.
I started rifling around my desk to see if he had left any more and noticed a stack of unchecked Little Lotto tickets. I love Little Lotto. My husband prefers the big games - PowerBall, MegaMillions, etc. He has dreams of paying off all his friends' mortgages, retiring, and moving all his buddies somewhere warm.
I'm not sure if he's planning on taking me.
|Little Lotto, Little Dreams|
I don't like those big games. I know that statistically, Little Lotto has better odds, but that's not why I play. I have seen one too many of those curse-of-the-lottery television shows. The winners all end up sick, miserable, and broke. I like Little Lotto because the money wouldn't change our lives that dramatically. Things are pretty okay the way they are. A Little Lotto win would only mean that Joe wouldn't have to work every day of the week. Perhaps we'd get HBO. I'd add cello to the boys' musical rotation. We'd have a fund for their future therapists. Nothing too crazy.
I suppose at the heart of my not wanting to win millions is the joy that would be stripped from my existence. It wouldn't feel the same getting a free oven mitt with my Coke points if I had $300 million in the bank. People would laugh at me for wasting my time. I currently have $5 waiting to be spent at Kmart with my rewards card there, and I am giddy. Every time I get a CVS $10 ExtraBucks reward, I buy Tide because it makes doing laundry, I don't know, happier.
|I have enough for this 300 pt. gift, but I'm saving for Season 1 of Glee (1800 pts)|
"Dude...you own a yacht. Shut the f*#$ up."
I for one like to complain and wouldn't give it up for all the money in the world. My husband would second that if he hadn't already gone to bed lamenting his having to fill up the vending machines this week.
And I'm just that much closer to Season 1 of Glee.