Some of us talk about it in the office with colleagues, others at the dinner table, others over a drink at the pub. Wherever it may have been, most of us have discussed what we’d do if we won the lottery.
Last night’s £139m Euromillions jackpot was not won, and Tuesday’s rollover will be the second biggest pot ever at £149m!
Personally, I haven’t bought a lottery ticket since I heard a colleague describing it as ‘idiot tax’ a number of years ago. And I hadn’t bought too many before that either. But last week when one of the lads in the office asked if I wanted to get involved in a syndicate for a ticket with other colleagues, I eagerly parted with £2.50.
Why was I so quick to change my stance on ‘idiot tax’ and part with hard earned cash when I know the odds are stacked against me? Three things:
An eighth of the pot landing in TFP’s bank account. Before the mathematicians have a shit attack, I am fully aware that the odds of me being required to work another few hours before reaching FI are extremely high due to my decision to part with £2.50 (and to probably part with another £2.50 on Tuesday) on this terribly bad bet.
But it’s not just about the money…
How gutted would I be if the syndicate won a life changing sum of money and I wasn’t involved!? Very fucking gutted! Crowd mentality in full swing right here! Then there’s the…
Once you’re part of the syndicate, there’s a good bit of banter to be had with the other syndicate members. Mind you, you could get involved in the banter if you weren’t part of the syndicate, but it wouldn’t be the same!
What better way to pass time in the office than to discuss how we’d each spend our share of the inevitable winnings. It’s fascinating to hear the different perspectives. Most agree that they wouldn’t show up to the office the following day. The other usual suspects were being rallied back and forth over the bank of desks – holidays, big houses, fast cars, buying football clubs, donations to friends and family…!
Would we tell anyone or keep it to ourselves? Most wanted the fame.
The last time I had this fantasy, I’d have taken a similar opinion to my colleagues; but it’s amazing how 6 months reading personal finance blogs can change your perspective on such things!
‘So TFP, what’d you do with your share?’, came the call from over the desk.
My reply was something like this… ‘Well lads, I’d put most of it into a well-diversified index fund and live off interest. I’d figure out the most tax efficient way to give my closest family members a large enough amount so that they too could live of its interest for the rest of their lives. I’d come into the office tomorrow and for the foreseeable future, until I’ve had time to process and digest my new situation and its implications. That wouldn’t be an issue though because I love my job, and if that ever changes, I’ll bring my new found fuck you money into play! Wherever we decide to call home, I’d buy a modest size house, a new bike, and an electric car…’
Rock n Roll baby!
Now I might as well have told them that I was going fishing with Santa and the Easter Bunny in the middle of Oxford Street, given the blankness in the faces staring back at me. It was that look Donald Trump sports almost all the time.
A few seconds passed in silence and then ‘Ehh, what’s fuck you money!?‘, came a question from one of the confused onlookers, before a barrage of friendly verbal abuse in relation to my ultra conservative spending plans!
I’ll leave you with a video I left my colleagues with.
Fingers crossed for Tuesday, it could be us!