Or woman. Either way, everyone thinks that winning the lottery would be the moment of heroic winning.

The old saying ‘Cometh the hour, cometh the man’ means in your greatest time of stress, your best version of you will be there. If you won the lottery it would ruin your life. You would not know how to deal with it.

Bullshit you say. Read on dear friend. Let me make one point and that is the element of change.

Every single aspect of your life would change if you won the lottery. Is that something you want to happen? The change is not selective. Every aspect of your life will change.

First you will move and buy a new car.

A new house. Great. But that means all your neighbours are new, all your friends live further away, all your possessions in your house would change. Is your chair and living space so bad right now? Are you not comfortable?

A big space is not comfortable. Living spaces are pretty much always small enough for conversation. Why change that? A new big house requires people to help you take care of it or it will quickly get ruinous. You need to organise that and watch over it. You will need to then have employees around you all of the time. They are not your friends because you pay them.

All of your new friends, don’t kid yourself you will have loads of new friends, will basically milk you. Those are not friends. And your old friends, they don’t have as much money as you…now you do, which everyone knows was free, so now they expect hand outs. Which you will gladly do…for a while, and then you will realise; buying every round can get a bit wearing. They are not friends anymore but hanger-on-ers.

Friendship is mutual and that is no longer possible. So once that changes, you’ve lost your friends. You will need to move to a place where everyone is rich…no one has real friends, and they can be your friends. Rich people generally aren’t the most pleasant folk though.

A new car is beautiful. I can imagine, like me, you’d have a few. But you can only drive one. And a million-dollar-car can’t be parked anywhere. It will be vulnerable to loads of things like theft and vandalism. So you won’t drive it. How wonderful, you have a car that can go over 200 miles-an-hour to go get some milk. You scrape on every speed hump on the way.

So then with your pockets full of gold you’ll probably travel. If you’ve travelled before you will notice that everyone looks at you, if you stand out a lot. Then you are at risk of theft, or worse. That’s not fun. Your nice Rolex works perfectly and works well, but a big finger under it’s strap and a solid yank will rip it off. And hurt, ask anyone who has been to Naples. So you won’t wear it. And you will dress down.

Maybe then you will notice you have come a full circle. You’ve dressed down so no one can tell that you’re stinking rich and you move back to a comfortable neighbourhood. You drive a pretty normal car.

You are back to the same, as before your lottery win. Except now you have no friends. How depressing and boring, but since you’re rich, you can afford any happy-pill you want, maybe find chemical entertainment. That’s a bad road almost every got-famous-quickly musician followed. Probably a bad road to follow.

If the time came and I won the lottery I’d divide it up, and then be done with it. Everyone would know he’s the crazy guy who gave it all away. But they’d soon forget about me since I’d be living a boring comfortable life. I’d have fewer friends probably, but it would depend on my divisional math.