I've always wanted to be rich. I have this vision of what my dream house looks like, and it's not gonna happen with the salary that we bring in. I don't want to be filthy rich, but having extra money to get a new outfit when I feel like it would be nice. As I realistically think of ways to earn this money (such as trying to get my book published, or having my husband FINALLY get his degree and get an actual career), I also enter sweepstakes every so often, with the hopes that I'll be that one-in-a-billion winner.
Yesterday, I entered this sweepstakes where the winner brings home one million dollars...every year for the rest of their life. Wow. Talk about being taken care of. As soon as I entered, I got this sinking feeling. What on earth would a person DO with one million dollars every year? I suddenly regretted entering, worrying excessively about the overwhelmingly monstrous amount of money. I knew that the first thing I wanted to do was buy a new home. I don't want one of those multi-million dollar monstrosities where you'll never see your family members for an entire week as you get lost down the hundreds of corridors or fifty different rooms. Maybe we could just buy this house that we're renting, rip it down, and have a gorgeous new house built in its place. Or better yet...we could just buy my dream house. However, I wanted to still live in a place where my child can attend the same school. So..I began stressing about that, wondering what we'd do with our new house once my husband graduated school and got a job.
And then I got hit by reality. If we became multimillionaires, would my husband still be working? Yeah...probably not. So what on earth are we going to do all day, sit on our rears and read? I started stressing about how pointless our lives would become. And then, I began worrying about what to do with this never-ending supply of money that would constantly be pouring in. The thought of it made me feel like drowning, as if this money would somehow become a plague.
Obviously, if we came into this amount of money, we'd have to become philanthropists. There's NO WAY we'd know what to do with it all. I began stressing about how I'd start donating to charities, or the city, and wondering how best to use the money to help my community.
It was hopeless. Having that much money wouldn't bring me any happiness. I don't know how to be wealthy. My husband and I don't want to own boats, we're not business owners, and we don't want ten different homes. Getting a million dollars a year would be disastrous.
This morning, I talked this over with my husband (somehow still plagued by my fantasy), and he knew right away what we'd do with the money. His dream is to own and operate his own farm. With the land and all the equipment, it would definitely cost well over a million dollars. It comforted me to know that an actual plan could be made.
It's funny how such a silly fantasy affected me so much emotionally. I guess it really made me appreciate what I had. As overwhelming as life may sometimes seem, it's what builds me into who I am. Money is never the answer to happiness. What matters most is living, loving, struggling, and holding on together. But if I do somehow walk into a million dollars someday...at least I'll know what to do with it!