If I Were A Rich Man, Nah Nah Nah...(however the song goes)

I don't care about being wealthy.  I haven't ever really, but for some reason I posed the question to my love last night;  What would you do if we had a million dollars?  What would you do if we had a BILLION dollars?!  I guessed his first two answers, pay the taxes, pay off the house - then what? He said travel.  I liked the idea. 

I told him I would buy a Birkin, and a Dior purse, and no wait - I would have a custom alligator bag made just for moi', and then I would have a house built by Guy Dreier in the Tavaci neighborhood, and smart man my love is, he knew I wanted a big - a$$ moat surrounding that house (you know, the kind you could swim in?).  It looks like this if you want a visual:

(Photo Cred: Robb Report)

A couple hours later I went home.  I layed in bed.  I couldn't sleep.   Here is 5 reasons why I decided last night that that life is lame:

1. 
   
   Using a intercom system to tell Mr. S I think he is hot because he is clear on the other side of the house seems so impersonal.  I want to tell him face-to-face and I don't want to take a Segway to get there. 
   
   
   
2. 
   
   I am pretty sure I am the only person who wants to swim in a moat, and it doesn't sound fun alone.
   
   
   
3. 
   
   The house cleaning sounds just freaking dreadful!
   
   
   
4. 
   
   Imagine trying to remember where you put your keys.  In a house that big, I would forget where I put my CAR. 
   
   
   
5. 
   
   The bums could sneak in and live there and I wouldn't even notice.
   
   
   

I don't want a billion dollars.  I don't want to live in Tavaci.  I don't want purses I worry about ruining.  I don't want to live in a big house that feels lonely.

My real life is way more cool.  I want nothing more.