IT’S over. Thank God it’s finally over.
To be clear—and safe, as I don’t want to bother criminal syndicates who may come after me and everyone I love—I am thanking the Almighty, not because I’m one of the two people whose bank account suddenly looks like a contact number. (But really, can you imagine being stupid enough to broadcast to the world you were the winner of a record lottery jackpot? I guess it’s like being gullible enough to believe that the pot has grown to a record high because of sheer, cute timing and not because it was deployed as a smokescreen to uplift the public’s morale amid rising inflation—oh, look, a penny!)
Anyway, I thank God because the madness has ended, and I pertain to all of it: the long queues of dreamers in lotto outlets, the damning idea of hope, the heightened sense of hunch and many more, uhm, interesting things that were born out of the promise of instant, even-your-grandkids-are-secure fortune. I know because I’ve been there.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote on this space a piece about lottery, specifically about some person’s guide on winning one, and the one-in-40-million chance of coming up with the right six digit combination from the field of one to 58. The pot at that time was P695 million. I bought tickets to the draw, a first for me, but perhaps beginner’s luck doesn’t apply on that scale.
What I won, however, was the rush of getting three digits right, and they didn’t even share the same row in my ticket. Still, I felt lucky: I was five digits away from winning way more than enough money to finally accept condominium brochures at the mall with the actual intent of purchasing a unit, and not just getting the paper to have something I can cover my chewed-up bubblegum with.
My confidence grew, and so did my plans on using the money should I win. Retirement, properties, businesses. I thought I should try my luck again, and so I did, this time winning three digits within the same combination. I’m getting closer. One more draw, I thought.
And that’s when I decided to stop.
The awakening from the sweet dream came like a solid slap: Quick and painful, but effective. I realized too much focus was going to the “what next” of winning, and none at all to the what next of losing, which is everything going to the way it was before. The fine line between hoping and expecting became blurry, as crazy as that sounds.
But I guess that’s what the intoxication of being an overnight billionaire does. There were reports that a person spent P10,000 in lottery tickets, and one who even loaned just to purchase entry to the draws. I’m sure there are more outrageous stories out there.
Then again, only two people get to continue to live the dream. For the rest of us, it’s time to wake up.
Besides, it’s only a matter of time before another major issue bursts out in the open and prompts the government to set another billion-peso jackpot—hey, another penny! It’s my lucky day! Maybe I should try the lottery…