If

Sometimes I wish I was crazy rich. I mean crazy rich.

As in, way too much money to know what to do with.

As in, yes, I gave loads of money to orphanages, fed the inhabitants of a third world country for the remainder of all time, tithed more than ten percent, wiped out every living relative's debt loads, prepaid my six children's college tuitions and gave so much money to my Alma mater that they named the new theatre complex after me.

That's the kind of rich I'm talking about.

And if I was that rich, here are just a few things I would purchase with my wads of cash. (After all of my good, kind, endlessly charitable deeds. Of course.)

A new razor every time I shower. Every. Time. Even if I take up showering three times a day. New razor. No questions asked.

Someone to purchase my razors for me. So I would never have to wait in line at the special aisle in Wal-Mart for a cashier to impatiently wait while I try to remember if my favorite razors are green or pink and have three blades or five and if I want the four pack or the six pack or the eight pack. All the way taking her word for it because I am not allowed to actually see the items of which she is speaking.

Freshly laundered sheets placed on my bed, by someone else, every night of my life. Every. Night.

A person carrying ambient lighting around me everywhere I go. All the time. Because with really good lighting, my skin looks fresher and I look - well, just better.

And . . . reliable internet service.

This is not an exhaustive list.

And I recognize that it is a vain list.

Judge me if you want to.

But if you do, when I am really, really ridiculously wealthy, I might not let you sit under my ambient lighting.