Now, if I could just figure out how to get my phone game to pay out.
A lot of us would like to be millionaires. I've given this a lot of thought, usually when I should be doing something that would actually be making me money. I wouldn't mind being well-off, that's for sure. Don't know that I would want to be, say, Bill Gates rich. I think I'd have to start sending nasty things in the mail to people sending me begging letters.
As an aside here, I am never, NEVER, NEVER donating to a charity again where they can harvest my address. A dear friend very unselfishly asked people who normally send her a birthday gift to please donate to a charity helping those in Darfur. Feeling very good about her, and myself for sending a check rather than going shopping, I did. I also donated a bit to the American Diabetes Association, a very worthy cause, especially since my dad's entire family had it and now I do too. Amazing how important a charity becomes when you HAVE the disease, isn't it? Anyway, I cannot go to my mailbox now without some begging letter trying to guilt me into donating. Or bribe me. Yes, your cheesy labels make me yearn to send money to help you give gorillas combs so they won't have to pick nits anymore. Or maybe I just use your labels and send you nothing. I donate where I can, what I can, when I can. I feel good about that. I feel pissed at the nags trying to make me do more.
Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post...so, not rich. But well-off enough that my mom wouldn't have to worry that her retirement after thirty years serving as a police officer won't let her visit a doctor in her own state, but instead she has to use half a tank of gas to drive to one in the neighboring state. Well-off enough that my kids wouldn't need to worry...work, yes, worry, no. My grandson could attend the college that his four-year-old level of intelligence tells me he'll be smart enough to attend. Maybe even get my sister and her DH an office they'd own for their business. Nothing exorbitant, no moon launches, just simple stuff.
And I am praying I'm on my way there. We've been rushed off our feet the last two weeks, first shooting the big dance studio we do annually, then starting to get calls for senior portraits. We've already booked almost double the number of seniors we've ever done in a year, and that's in just over a week since our mailing hit. The DH has set a goal of doing 100 this year; not unreasonable given that this studio location has averaged well over 200 in the years past. So I'm hoping we get that 100. Get to where we don't have to worry about the next mortgage payment ever again. Get to where I CAN help my favorite charities and family more.
I'm also hoping that having to actually work all day won't have any lasting effects on my quintessential laziness. But I won't lie to you, my faithful readers. The prospect worries me.