False Hope

I need to stop buying lottery tickets. It's not because I spend an inordinate of money on the habit (at the most, I've invested $20 which, if you think about it, is rather inconsequential), and it's not because I acutally believe I'll win the lottery (I don't). The problem is the brief, yet powerful sensation of false hope. The belief that there's a glimmer of possibility that I won't have to worry about shit day jobs, closet-sized apartments, or my *Future*--that's the dangerous part of buying into the lottery fantasy. It's the daydream of how things could be.

Buying lottery tickets is like catching the eye of the really hot guy when you walk into the bar. You know he's probably checking out the girl behind you instead of you; you know you'll never really talk to him, let alone going out with him; yet, for the second that his glace meets yours and your body flushes in excitment and hope and possibility, you're overcome by the false hope. It's the 'maybe' that gets you. The 'what if' that transports you from everyday life.

I'm too old to count on this feeling anymore, but not jaded enough to give it up completely. I don't know yet whether or not that's a good thing.