I bought my first lotto ticket the other day. I honestly expected to win. I did not, which is why I am sitting here writing this post. I still expect to win even though I haven’t purchased another ticket.
Had I won, I would expect not much to change. I would expect to make a few splurges, like new kitchen counter tops would be nice. After my children finish college, paid for with my winnings of course, I would expect to travel.
I also expect to be divorced again by this time so I must also expect to find a travel partner. I would expect to get chubby from enjoying all the foreign cuisine and lack of exercise. I would expect to visit all the places I have always dreamed of seeing. I would expect to see the Great Wall of China, the Louvre in Paris, and the Coliseum in Rome, just to name a few.
I would expect to get bored eventually. I would expect to grow weary of all the self-gratification. I would expect to want something more meaningful. I would expect to end up back home. I would expect to still be searching for my purpose.
Maybe this is why I did not win the lotto. Even though that is what I wanted, the universe knew that winning is not what I needed. I must dream of greater expectations.
But it would make for a lovely detour, don’t you think?