Blotto

I don't consider myself a gambler. It's one vice that I can't really claim. Though with my addictive personality and lots of practice, I'm quite certain I could make it a full-blown vice in no time. But right now, it's just a half-assed vice: I am the proud owner of $11 worth of lotto tickets. Why $11? Well, the other night I bought a dollar ticket from a random bodega on my way home, to avoid the long last-minute lotto-er lines that form today and to diversify my purchases. Then this morning, I was given an extra $10 by the ATM fairy. And you thought that never happens, right? Neither did I but apparently it does. Since that was money I didn't know I had coming to me, I "invested" it all on lotto tickets from the cats who sell 'em down in the lobby of my office building. I sort of made a scene in there, telling the dude and his wife behind the counter to get ready for the cameras and reporters and crazy hullabaloo that will surround me and my winning ticket purchased at his retail location. What will I do with the money, you ask? Well, that's the cart before the horse, but the first thing I'll do is probably throw this collection of random black socks away --a chore that's been haunting me for months-- and just buy new ones. Then I can check "sort socks" off my To Do List and enjoy the way that feels for awhile.

Admittedly, I'm pretty excited about winning the $212 million tonight.