Buying myself time

Speaking of that lottery I’m going to win … despite not having a ticket … I’ve been contemplating what I’ll do with the imaginary money.

And the thing I want most is time.

Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning in the ever-growing list of tasks I never get a chance to complete … or even start.

Last night I was stacking bar stools on the kitchen bench at 10pm so I could give the family room a long overdue vacuum and mop.

It’s been forever since the bathroom was cleaned. The garage is overflowing with junk that’s missed the past 500 million council clean ups because there hasn’t been a spare moment to sort it out.

A friend suggested I start a veggie patch to feed the youngest’s organic addiction. That would be sooooo nice, but I barely have time to buy veggies at the shops, let alone grow them myself.

Winning the lottery would mean having money to pay people to share the load.

Someone to help with the neglected garden. Someone to help me turn the back room into a sunny, dry place for the sickly youngest to sleep. Plus the dosh to get her a new bed that actually has some cushioning, and window shutters that can be wiped to cut down on the allergy-fuelling dust.

While we’ve got the builders in … perhaps a new bathroom. Nothing too fancy, but a bathtub without resurfacing paint  peeling off it would be nice.

And I’d like to solve why the house smells damp, in the hope it stops the sickly eldest from having a 20% absentee rate from school.

I’d ditch my lemon of a car for something that doesn’t need two litres of oil poured into it every few months. Again, nothing too fancy, maybe another RAV4.

I’d hired one of those fancy campervans and pootle around the south island of New Zealand. Then next year I’d hire another one to drive from Perth to Ningaloo Reef.

I’d buy the georgette animal print dress Witchery has on special oiffer at the moment, because winning the lottery would mean I could justify acquiring another item of clothing in animal print.

I’d also get myself some decent flat black shoes so I don’t have to clod about in $10 sweaty pleather Kmart Converse rip-offs.

Oh and I’d book some physio for my hip.

Plus a specialist to look at the eldest’s back, which appears to have developed scoliosis since it was hidden by the modesty of the teen years. They showed me a picture of it last night and it’s got quite the curve on it.

The eldest noted that I’d fixed the youngest nose, maybe I could fix their back now …

I’m pretty sure scoliosis ain’t as easy to fix as a deviated septum.

Anyways …

The thing I’d enjoy most is having the money to paid for help.

I saw a post on my suburb’s Facebook page a few weeks back from a family seeking a housekeeper. They wrote:

We’re in immediate need of a housekeeper to work over 3-4 days a week for a minimum of 12 hours per week.

We are a fun, active (and busy!) family of 5 (boys aged 15, 10, 8) looking for a housekeeper for our 4 bedroom home.

Housekeeping for us means pretty much tending to all household tasks as you would if it were your own home. Cleaning, washing, ironing, changing beds and generally keeping the house running and in tip top shape for us whilst we’re at work and school, allowing us to come home and spend quality time with each other.

Now, isn’t that another world? It sounds like a fantasy come true!

Better get onto those lottery tickets.

What’s the first thing you’d do with your lottery win?

Song of the day: Paula Abdul “Rush, rush”