Drag yourself out of bed. Take a long shower. Check your sunburn. Put on a nice dress even though you’re kind of sunburned. Eat something healthy, oatmeal perhaps. Sit on your steps and watch the turtledoves nest while you drink your coffee. Wave to the cat across the yard and pet him when he comes to say hi. Grumble and peel all the friggin orange cat fur off of your dress. Read your roommate’s New Yorker. Read even the fiction part, which is kind of so-so, but you get sucked in a bit anyways.

Draw something. Play Draw Something. Call your uncle back about his questions about San Francisco housing. Say you’ll try to ask around for your cousins. Wonder if this means that he wants you to host them? Consider subletting your room to your cousins. Laugh VERY hard.  Call your mom about your uncle’s call. Write your friends back, then decide to call them instead. Talk to your cheerful roommate about nothing in particular, but feel better because he always makes you feel better. Wish that you could have that effect on people, just by talking to them. Wonder if you’re starting to get too dependent on being around other people. Decide that that’s probably a good thing, putting down roots.

Go ahead and get your laundry out of the way. While you wait for your clothes to dry read your journal and laugh at all the old stuff, even the really squirmy stuff that was horrible at the time. Write something new for today. Be honest. Clean the house to Watch the Throne. Feel like a badass until upstairs neighbor turns Led Zeppelin on in retaliation, not that you don’t like Led Zeppelin, but you were in a certain mood, damnit.

Go for a bike ride. It doesn’t have to be a long one, but you make it longer because it feels good.  When you’re going fast you can’t hear anything else but your heart beating. On your way back pick up grocery store sushi and sit and eat it in the park. Think about somebody that you care about, and send them love. Take a picture. Play on the swings with the kids. Think maybe kids aren’t so bad to be around, but jeez I still don’t want one. Drop off your overdue movies at the local videoshop. Pay your late fees.

Pick up a coffee from the place across the street even though you already have coffee at home and it’s getting kind of late for coffee. Play Liar’s Dice with friends. Make a really weird dinner with the last of your groceries. Throw everything else out. Pack your bag. Move your bike. Take a bath. Watch YouTube. Stretch. Go to bed. Dream. Take care.

It seems like all talk round these parts has been on $$$ over the last few weeks, what with the lottery and crazy amounts of cash being thrown around this town making a handful of people millionaires.

Yes, the Mega Millions came and went. I wasn’t a winner and neither were my coworkers. Me and my five bucks went into the game knowing nothing would come of it. Still, it was nice for a few hours to go through the motions with the rest of the nation- standing in line at the 7-11 drinking suicide Slurpees, making a lottery pool and dreaming big.

My favorite part of the whole affair (besides the Slurpees- TEETHROT) was listening to everyone’s “If I won the lottery…” dreams. Beyond the usual houses, donations and travel aspirations there were also a few very quirky labor of love enterprises: rock climbing gyms, musical theater restaurants, whimsical research foundations and so on. It all lead to some very interesting conversations about personal motivation, sense of self and obligations to one’s community. Even within that last question there are so many things to think about. How do you define community? Where does your heart and sense of service lie? Do you only help your family? Your friends? People who do the same work as you? People who have the same problems as you? How do you spread your wealth in order to do the most good? And on, and on…

My own dreams felt to me to be quite humble, perhaps for lack of imagination, or perhaps because I am feeling grateful for things as they are. Some scary health concerns have been popping up around the edges of my friends’ lives, which has me holding my breath and feeling an extra long lasting sense of thankfulness. It’s so weird. I’m just really really glad that right now everybody I care about is healthy and happy, and that’s enough.

Anyways, back to the question. How would I choose to live my life with $$$$$$? Most likely I would pay off my debts, live a bicoastal lifestyle interspersed with occasional travel, take care of my mom financially, revamp a few ASPCA shelters, open a bunch of grocery stores in food deserts and start a publishing house where I could give the green light on books that nobody will read…

The thing that amuses me about my dreams and the dreams of others is that most things that we mentioned are totally doable, right here, right now. Grocery store leases and the fact that nobody reads books aside, every day I can be making real headway on the things that I want, and so can my friends. The only thing stopping us it seems is fear, not money. Happiness is here and now if we do the work.