I have five lottery tickets. The hubby has five. We have high hopes that we are hours away from becoming $636 million winners. If the best happens, here’s fair warning: we will drop off the grid for several months.
We’ve talked about this scenario on numerous occasions, but for much smaller jackpots.
If When we win, we don’t intend to claim our prize right away. We’d like to let the dust settle, give people time to forget about the huge jackpot with the mystery winner. (Yes, winner, singular. We aren’t trying to be selfish, we just like to think positive.) Instead of heading directly to the lottery office, the hubby will stop by work to drop off his badge. Then we’re getting the heck out of Dodge via one of two escape plans.
Plan A involves renting an RV and driving leisurely around the US looking for a place to settle down with our millions. Between house-hunting and sight-seeing stops, we’ll research charities, investment opportunities, and financial planners so we can protect our windfall and help it do the most good. Once we feel our ducks are in a row, we’ll change our phone number, return home, end the anonymity, and claim our prize.
Since much of the US is currently experiencing winter weather that is not conducive to safely piloting an RV, I suspect we will actually have to implement Plan B tomorrow. First thing in the morning, we’ll be on the phone with a Cunard representative, booking ourselves on the World Cruise aboard Queen Mary 2, departing from Southampton, England, on 10 January. That’ll give us three weeks to close up the house, adopt the remaining angels on the Salvation Army’s Angel Tree at the mall, and shop for a cruise-worthy wardrobe. After 29 ports-of-call, 18 countries, and 119 afternoon teas, we’ll be ready to come forward and announce our mega-millionness.
So, if you can’t reach me tomorrow, rest easy. I’m packing my bags and dreaming big dreams. The hubby and I will resurface in a few months with a plan, ready, willing, and eager to share the wealth. Until then…