Supposedly, when Tyler Johnson saw that he was gonna get paid $50 million by the Nets (the Heat matched eventually, putting a stop to the Johnson-Lin dynasty before it even began), he pretty much just puked all over everything in his house. Like, that was too much money to even think about, so the only thing his body could do was reverse the action of his esophagus and send chunky yellow bile mixed with still-identifiable food chunks spewing out of his mouth.
I don’t retell this story to mock Tyler, only to point out that if I were getting paid that much money, I would do a lot worse than just chunder a few times on my furniture and pets. I would end up in a coma and never wake up. It would be tragic, for sure, to not ever see that large amount of money because my brain has shut down everything other than my vital functions, but I don’t think I would be able to respond in any other way.
Right now I’m making sure my living will includes a provision where if I’m in a richness-induced coma, they should just pull the plug and give all the money to my little soft kitty Japurri Purrker, except they should bury me in a sarcophagus stuffed with a couple million bucks just in case Eypgtian ritual mysticism is true and I get to take it with me to the afterlife. Oh, and put my editing PC in there too. I want to keep making highlights.