I still can't believe it. We didn't win the lottery.

But we had bought the winning lottery ticket – admittedly, self-proclaimed – and we had purchased it in a little bumpkin town somewhere in the Central California, where all winning lottery tickets are purchased. The gas station across the street called itself “Gas War” (out of ignorance, we decided). How could it not be the winning lottery ticket?

I tore it up into little pieces in the aftermath of the drawing. As I analagously tore up my dreams of that immediate trip to Greece, the jaunt from there to Iceland, and then to – sigh, Thailand. And Portland, as promised. I wasn’t going to be greedy, either. My mother would get a house, my sister an investor. I’d pay my friend’s credit card bills for a month or more, and we’d all take long vacations. I wouldn’t stop working, and I’d invest wisely. Life was going to be alright.

The worst part of losing the lottery even though you bought the self-proclaimed winning lottery ticket? Having all your confidence in Tony Robbins dashed.

I first met Tony in his Get the Edge series (my aunt introduced us). He had a really motivating goal-setting workshop on Disc 3. It emphasized that visualization was the key to success. Visualization and goal-setting. So, I set some goals. One was inner peace (ha!). The most material was to have a million dollars by my next birthday. Back then, this was eleven months away. I figured if I could make $100,000 a month, I’d be golden.

Yeah, so now I’m 4 months away, and the lotto seems like my best bet. Tony told me stories of this couple who set a similar goal – millions in months (plausible get rich quick scheme not required). They won the lottery. Then they decided that five million wasn’t enough. So they set another impossible goal. And won the lotto again. And why did this happen for them? Because they believed it would. They visualized it happening.

Oh, how I visualized. Oh, how I believed. I believed in you, Tony. I don’t know what I did wrong. I’m sorry I wouldn’t have your child, but I was broke, even though you said the money was coming.

What’s that, Great Universe?

I do have four more months. I think maybe I’ll give this rollercoaster of hope and dispair another try. Perhaps even twice a week. And oh, how I’ll visualize. Oh, how I’ll believe. Thanks, Tony. I feel better now. Greece’ll still be nice in late summer. However crowded.

(While we were growing up, my parents bought a lotto ticket every Wednesday and Saturday. They used the same numbers, and never missed a week. We’ve all had nightmares of not playing the one week our numbers came up. One time we won $1,500. That was good for thirteen-year-old me, even though I only got $50 and a new vest. I tell myself that thirteen-year-old me thought a vest was way hot. Way wrong.)

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