I’m going to bed tonight pondering whether I should buy a Powerball ticket sometime tomorrow.

The jackpot has hit $800 million. The one-time payout totals something more than $450 million, which ain’t exactly walking-around money.

I doubt that I’ll play tomorrow. But my staunch refusal to gamble in this manner has been shaken a bit by a story I heard about two weeks ago.

The story goes like this:

A good friend of mine told me of a young man — a mutual friend of ours — who decided one day to purchase a Texas Lottery ticket. I’m told he doesn’t play often. But he drove up to a West Texas convenience store the other day, got out of his car, walked into the store and bought a lottery ticket. He just had a wild hair, I guess, so he plunked down some cash.

He won a nice prize.

It totaled $1 million. My friend ended up walking away with nearly 700 grand.

Sure, the federal government got a nice chunk of change from my friend’s winnings. Big deal. He still pocketed a lot of dough. I’d settle for a tenth of that amount.

Am I going to lay down some cash tomorrow for a chance at the Powerball jackpot? Not likely . . . but I haven’t yet slammed the door shut.