Extreme case of the Mondays

I don't play the lottery to win. I play to not lose.

Despite not being a regular player, the cricket finds it hard to pass up a chance at $265 million, especially when co-workers join forces to buy 30 tickets.

Every year or so, there are news reports of a company where most of the workers bought tickets together and won. Instantly, the 20 or so workers become millionaires.

The employees talk about what they're going to buy first and whether they're going to quit their jobs.

However, the reporters never find the real story: the cheapskate employee who didn't pony up that single dollar.

One dollar for the chance of winning $20 million, a small price to pay. Instead, that poor sap bought a Junior Bacon Cheeseburger from a local fast food joint.

It's hard to imagine a more painful scenario than being the one person at a workplace where everyone else is financially set for life -- even that annoying assistant business manager that once gave you grief for being a half-hour late on your timesheet, even though you worked all weekend and she didn't.

Think of her grating voice as she boasts about blowing off work, going to the Caribean, buying fancy sports cars and moving into a new house.

Compare that to your own situation. You've worked hard and scraped by, but your co-worker now has more money than you'll ever see in your entire life.

That's enough motivation for me to play.