Today, the whole country was buzzing with the news: someone in Ireland had scooped a jaw-dropping €250,000,000 in the EuroMillions.
Naturally, my thoughts turned immediately to one thing: Did I buy a ticket?
I had a vague memory of doing so in the recent past. And so began the great search—pockets, handbags, the drawer of doom in the kitchen—you know the one. As I rooted around, my imagination took off at breakneck speed.
Call it manifestation.
In my head, I was already sipping cocktails on my private island in the Bahamas. I had a wardrobe full of designer clothes, a countryside mansion with a rose garden, and a holiday home perched on the Riviera.
Because let’s be honest—€250 million isn’t just “a win,” it’s a new life.
Finally, I found it. The golden ticket. (Well, light green—but we’ll overlook that.)
And then—reality.
Firstly, it wasn’t even for the right date.
Secondly, even if it had been… I had matched a grand total of ONE number.
Still, for a few fleeting, fabulous minutes, I knew what it felt like to be obscenely rich.
And maybe that’s worth the €2.50 alone.
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