More than once last week I was asked the question of what I would do if I were to win the Powerball jackpot, which, as of this writing, stands at an all-time high of $1.3 billion.

And I had not the slightest clue how to respond.

Not because I would be so indecisive as to how to spend such a large sum of money, but because it’s seriously not even worth dwelling a single moment on something that is clearly not going to happen.

The odds of winning the Powerball jackpot are 292 million to one.

With chances like that, why even waste time thinking about what would happen if you won?

I might as well spend the equal amount of time thinking about what I would do if I accidentally stumbled into a flash mob of penguins dancing in synchronization to Fergie’s “Big Girls Don’t Cry.”

And that is absolutely something I have thought about before. I would join. You’re damn right I would saddle right in with those penguins. It would be an honor and a privilege.

But why stop there? If it’s totally normal to spend a considerable amount of time thinking about something as improbable as winning Powerball, then why can’t I channel my energy towards a goal that, on the surface, sounds equally as daunting?

Dating Taylor Swift.

However, I firmly believe I have much better odds of accomplishing that than ever winning Powerball. For one, anyone can play Powerball. The field of competitors is just too great.

But to date Taylor Swift, there are certain criteria one must meet. First, they need to be a man. Last time I checked, Taylor was not a lesbian. Not that there’d be anything wrong with that. It’s just a fact. She likes men. So that puts me immediately on the right track, and at the same time eliminates half of the world’s population.

Next, you have to be within the age of roughly 21 to 35. I’m assuming Taylor doesn’t judge based solely on age, but I think those are safe parameters to be considered a legitimate contender for her heart. No more than five years younger, or 10 years older. Me, being 28 years old, falls perfectly within that range. Almost too perfectly. Again, this criteria knocks another large chunk of the population.

And last, you probably have to be famous. I, uhh, well … damn.

And that’s why this is a longshot. I never said it’s going to be easy. But if it’s acceptable to dream about winning Powerball, then I see nothing wrong with this. In fact, I think I’m even less delusional than most.

But Taylor, if you’re reading this, then help me prove everyone wrong. Let’s show them that it is OK to dream big.

So if any one asks me this week what I would do if I won Powerball, I won’t have an answer for you. In fact, I probably won’t even hear you.

Because I’ll be too busy thinking about what conversation pieces I’d be using if I was sitting across of a dinner table from Taylor Swift.

I’m thinking the chatter will lean heavily towards cats.