Dead Before Dessert

October 5, 2009


I regret to inform anyone who was counting on my being around for a long period of time that I am going to die young. Possibly soon. Do I owe you money? Have I promised to help you move? Promised to sex you up if you’re still a virgin by 30? Have you not taken out a life insurance policy on me yet? Did I promise to meet you at the top of the Empire State Building in six months’ time? Yeah, you’re fucked. I’ll be long gone.

In addition to a lingering feeling I’ve always harbored that I was going to die before I hit 30, I also engage in mildly reckless—though frequent—behavior, usually just out of laziness. I think of it like an odds game. For instance, as I type this, I’m eating Chinese food leftovers that made a horrific hole in my stomach last night, because I’m too cheap to buy something else. What’s wrong with it? Not sure. I’m drinking water that has been sitting in an open water bottle on my desk since Friday, because I’m too lazy to go in the kitchen and pour it out. I also haven’t cleaned this water bottle in 4 months. I just refill it. And I eat day-old sushi whenever I have it leftover. I eat any leftovers, really, basically until it develops some kind of growth on it.

Or I once came home post-bar, ever so slightly served, to my apartment around 1 in the morning, where I encountered a strong smell that smacked of oven gas. After calling the gas company to come inspect, I then couldn’t wait for them to get there, took a lighter and lit it in the air to see if it was, in fact, a gas leak. That I still have body hair and the ability to type will indicate that it was actually just floor varnish from the apartment below me leaking up. Luck of the draw, I suppose.

I fall asleep on public transportation. At night. I fall asleep in the bath. I fall over and break things on my body at a surprising rate for someone without osteoporosis.

I live and generally share my life with a man who likes to yell things out my car window at drunken passersby when he’s inebriated.

I get sick almost more than any person I know, but I generally can’t go to most hospitals or doctors’ offices, since I owe them all money.

If I can develop a bad gambling addiction and an inexpensive taste in whores, we might speed this along. But until then, know that it won’t be too long.

How creepy will this post be if I’m right? Day-Old Sushi Takes Northsider As Predicted; Funeral to Have Freddie Mercury Theme by Request of the Deceased

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