Eric bought a couple lottery tickets for the billion-dollar payout and as anyone with a potential billion-dollar payout in hand does, we started talking about what we'd do with it. We are aware of the life-ruining potential of such a windfall; we know to keep quiet about it and keep going about our usual business until we can figure out how to get the money as discreetly as possible and all that sensible crap.
But also I am convinced that even if we were smart about it, even if we didn't squander it on strippers and spoil our relatives into a spiral of self-destruction and drive around town lording our winnings over people until we suffered a string of tragedies; even if we didn't end up addicted to drugs, sleeping in a storage unit with our granite statuary, this would destroy us. (Both stories I linked to are haunting; the first one is well written and the second one is snarkily classist in a way I think most journalists are better about nowadays.) I just don't see how you can continue to enjoy a life you've carefully built after the disruptive injection of a billion freaking dollars.
Anyway, if we win you'll likely never know. I'll keep showing up to my job, for now, and I'll keep blogging doggedly throughout November. Maybe, though, I'll quietly buy something big to amuse myself. Like the Democratic Party of Texas. They seem like they could use some help these days.