i have come to the last day of my life and it is time to contemplate all that i have done and all that i have left to do. i have seen the doctor and he has diagnosed me with an incurable, fatal disease that will steal all happiness from the world and slowly eat my soul until i am left a whimpering, trembling shell of a human being, crumpled in a corner begging for someone to please put me out of my misery.

At least, that’s how i heard it.

What he may have actually said, was that i had caught a virus, which then triggered my asthma (which i totally forgot i had), and now 20 days later, it looks like i may have caught a second virus. Basically, it’s a virus sandwich. With a slice of asthma. Which has GOT to be the worst kind of sandwich in the history of bad sandwiches and this is coming from a girl whose uncle dined on tuna and jam sandwiches.

Yes. Tuna and jam.
TOGETHER.
Yum yum.

Not everybody leaves a pharmacy with a grocery bag of drugs

What he DIDN’T say was that he had a magic cure, or that i could expect relief soon, or even that he wished i felt better and could he give me a hug? i wanted a hug. 20 days with the coughing crud and no end in sight? Even a pat on the head would have been nice. But Doctor Downer just shrugged, prescribed $85 in copays of half a dozen pills and inhalers to keep me alive for the next few weeks and told me to get more rest.

MORE rest?? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Oh man…that’s a good one. i haven’t done ANYTHING except drag my butt to work and back for the past 20 days and even with that, some of those days i didn’t make it to work or anywhere at all. My entire life has been coughing, trying to sleep, coughing, trying to get to work, coughing, trying to sleep, etc.

During these half-lucid, coughing-fit filled, sleepless nights, i have been musing over some of the true mysteries in life.

For example….

Everybody knows that if you text in all caps you are yelling so how do you text in a whisper? What if you want to whisper something to a friend via text? There should be a whisper font. It would be really really small and then people would have to go get their reading glasses or a magnifying glass or just enlarge the screen but then the words would be big and it would look like yelling and it would be a whisper-to-a-scream which was a really cool 80s song. So basically whispering is totally 1985 and we’re all into yelling now.

Don’t light a match near that hair!

Or what about the human propensity for being snarky? That seems to be pretty easily done via text. In fact, I tend to insert snarkiness into a lot of the texts I read and then I can get righteously angry. Which, of course, feels REALLY good until you righteously-anger yourself into alienating all your friends and you end up like the geek in the corner of the gym in every highschool dance in every 80’s brat pack movie. So, perhaps righteous anger should just stay all pretty in pink and locked away with the execessive shoulder pads and AquaNet mall bangs and i could start being a little more 21st century mindful and John Kabat-Zinn-in-the-moment.

Wow. i really miss the 80’s.

The MAN tells me most people don’t mean to be snarky and i’m probably just reading things into it and if something sounds snarky perhaps i could just give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that it’s not and have i really taken all the cough medicine i’m supposed to? Shouldn’t i be asleep by now?

But i know that when my texts sound snarky i actually mean them to be but if you ask me i will totally deny it because I’m too passive aggressive to admit it. So, now, i guess, i’m interpreting others’ behaviors as if they were mine. Now there’s some dirt for the therapist. Good thing she doesn’t read this blog.

At least i don’t think she does.

i haven’t been able to get around to asking her because, oh yeah –
I’M DYING.

So back to me and my last few days on earth.

i think if this works like a last day on death row, i get to decide my last meal. And i’m thinking chicken noodle soup. Or meatloaf. Or pizza delivery.

ANYTHING but tuna and jam sandwiches.

(i love you uncle Sam! RIP!)

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