27th January 2041

Here’s a morbid (yet entertaining) way to spend 3 minutes. Picture your most recent near death experience. Or, if you’re like me, just think of the one time you fractured a bone. That’s gotta be close enough to death, especially if you fracture said bone on a mountainside known to double as a grocery store for mountain lions. Now, all laws of averages aside, I think it’s likely that this near death-ish moment could repeat itself. I’m the same me and my body is still uncoordinated as a hippo going through puberty. They must inadvertently walk into a few trees, and I wouldn’t even want to google “hippo pimples.” Though it would be totally cool if someone searched that term and found this blog.

jazz hands make falling into an art form

jazz hands make falling into an art form

Anyhoo, I figure that Death, in a pinch, would try the same method to do me off that almost worked once, right? Even if that dramatic event was just me slipping in socked feet on a linoleum floor. I still run around indoors regardless of surface slickness. I run just to get a drink of water. And why not, I ask; exercise is exercise in this day and age of air conditioning and internet access. So if I die slipping on linoleum in an exaggerated pratfall, then my last words might well be, “What’s such a bad idea about having carpeting in the kitchen?”

And if I had to place this future event in time, I’d say January of 2041. I don’t want to miss out on my last Christmas, I run more in winter to keep warm in cold houses, plus I go sockless in the warmer months. I was pretty much born middle-aged and I wish to remain as such. On my birthday in February of 2041 I’d be turning 50 and, really, how many people live to 100? (Or want to, for that matter.) A self-proclaimed “middle-aged” person at 50 is being willfully optimistic.

So mark your calendars. And just to give myself a tidy goal, let’s say it’ll be the 27th of January because that’s one of my lucky numbers. Now just imagine how happy I’ll be over something silly when I survive that day!

This has been a ridiculous post, and I hope you appreciate that I not only thought about this but then felt compelled to type it up. Blame insomnia, not me.


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