I like books.


I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Friday, October 07, 2005

No more fantasy, from here out, it's reality.

Sometimes, I wish that I were so rich that I never had to worry about money again. Well, that is pretty much all the time and since I am not ever going to be rich, I know this, have resolved my lot in life, I can only dream. But a few years back, it was when I was in the wheel chair. The docs said it, the chair, was for life and they were wrong, I walk, not well, but I walk. Anyway, I had entered the contest thing where you watch the big ballgame at the end of January and the winner is announced. I was so certain that I was going to win, that I cleaned my house, put on makeup, and practiced my surprise look. So, when the end of the time came and they were announcing the winner, my son, who was like 14 at the time, and I sat on the edge of our seats waiting for that knock. We had already planned on what we were going to buy: a new van so I could transport myself easily, a new house, one with really good carpeting and a huge living room, cool clothes for the kids, and on and on. We saw on the tube where they were driving down a road and I say that doesn’t look like our road and he says no and I say but it could be that they are using last years tapes so that the winner will still be surprised and so I transfer off the sofa onto my wheelchair and I roll to the door waiting and waiting and the knock never came and the 10 million dollars went to some woman in Idaho who had a really nice house and I wondered why the gods or lady luck or someone or thing couldn’t see the injustice of a middle class woman with a nice house, two working legs, and a husband and a new car, winning over me, a poor, poverty stricken woman with two teenagers, and I was in a wheelchair, and needed an electric wheel chair and a car that ran decent so that I could go places without waiting on my sisters to take me, and my son needed new shoes. Where was the justice? Then I looked through teary eyes at my envelope, the one that brought me the entry form and I realized that I had joined the wrong contest. Laugh on me. Nope, it was still kind of sad. I never won those millions either. I think that was the year that I knew I was going to always be poor.


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