When the money kept showing up every few days (as if the universe had me on direct deposit), you’d think I would’ve gone straight to buying a yacht, a private jet, or at the very least, a chocolate fountain for my kitchen. But no. My first big move as a freshly minted eccentric millionaire? Debt repayment.
Wild, I know.
I marched straight to my accounts and untangled the little financial knots that had been annoying me for years:
- Paid off the 401k loan I’d transferred my car loan into. (Yes, I essentially borrowed from myself to pay for my car. Very glamorous.)
- Paid back the money I’d borrowed from my brother – because nothing says “thanks for helping me out” like suddenly repaying him with suspicious efficiency.
- Restocked my ROTH IRA, which I had dipped into for “adulting emergencies” (read: life being rude and expensive).
And then, for my grand eccentric splurge? I fixed the exhaust, brakes, and clutch bearing on my trusty older car. Because while my bank account was now absurdly overflowing, my car was still starting to sound like a dragon trying to cough up a hairball at every stoplight.
Only after those sensible-but-boring chores were done did I finally let myself dream:
- A ski condo, where I could spend mornings on the slopes and evenings sipping hot cocoa on the balcony.
- A lake house, because some fortunes are best spent paddleboarding at sunrise and poking around the reeds for fascinating critters.
I suppose this means my confessions start with practicality and wander quickly into folly. Which, honestly, feels just about right.
Stay tuned. My fortune may be foolish, but it’s not boring.
