Dreaming of a Lotto luck: it could be me!

They say money can’t buy happiness but I maintain I would definitely prefer to be miserable in comfort than wondering how to pay for the next fill of oil in the tank.

Delighted and all as I am for Strabane woman Margaret Loughrey who won £27m on the Lotto, the news of her mega win has left me with that bittersweet feeling that comes with imagining what you would do with a similar lottery win and then realising chances are, it’s never going to happen.

All the same, it has been lovely to spend an hour or so searching property websites for my dream abode, imagining myself draped in fancy frocks and admiring a certain antique ring currently on sale in The WhatNot. (It doesn’t give a price on the website, which chances are, means “only within the price range of Lottery winners from Strabane”).

I’d trade in the mammy mobile for a BMW x3 - strictly no Wotsits allowed. I’d have my hair cut regularly - and not just when the split ends outnumbered the glossy, well conditioned ends - and professionally dyed to avoid dyeing every towel in the house.

I would call my best friend in the world up and tell her I was calling round for afternoon tea - and mean it. The fact that she lives in Glasgow wouldn’t make this an infrequent trip.

And when I say “afternoon tea”, I’d of course mean somewhere fancy - that serves champagne.

I know money can’t heal all ills or cure all problems but there would be something deeply comforting about being able to take two or three or more holidays each year and none of them involving a rented house in Donegal which cost so much you spend the week living on egg and onion sandwiches because you have no spending money.

I would wear, always, a pair of diamond earrings - pear drop style, in case you wondered. I would even wear them in the shower.

I would allow myself a classic pair of Christian Louboutin shoes (the Leopardino ones) and for my ongoing writing career I would buy a house with french doors which overlooked a lake (think Colin Firth in Love Actually... actually I won’t, could I buy Colin Firth?).

The room would be soundproofed (aka children proofed) with duck egg blue walls, a comfy chair for relaxing and real wood floors.

These dreams may be unrealistic but don’t we all need something to get us through the days sometimes? And as Margaret in Strabane found out, it could well be you, one of these days.