embarassing confession

I think I realized why I don't play the lottery.
Tonight, HGTV announced who won their dream home in Winter Park, Colorado.
I entered everyday for a month and each time I entered, I got a little more excited about the possiblity of winning this house. I imagined all our friends spending their vacations with us, hosting my family reunions in the summer, deciding what pieces of furniture we would bring back to our Illinois house, and selecting what we would need to sell in order to manage both homes, because, of course, we would need to keep our place here.

I've been very aware of the impossible chances, but someone's got to win, right?
I know we didn't win, but as they got closer to surprising the winner, I peeked down the street to see if there was an unmarked van or a strange group of people carrying a bunch of balloons and a large check. Nope...clear street. But there's still a chance. I mean, they'd drive up to our house only seconds before the big reveal so they get the genuine shocked look for live t.v., right?

Well, not surprisingly, I didn't win. But for some strange reason, up until I saw the winner on the screen, I kept thinking there was a chance. It's amazing how distored my perspective gets when I really want something.

I need to remember this for the little things, because now I really want a double jogger. It's not quite a luxury vacation home, but it's pricy. But I'm still looking for a sweepstakes....or at least a good coupon.