Or, How to Waste a Perfectly Good Life Waiting to Die
I recently developed an unfortunate habit of expecting to drop dead at any moment.
Not in a particularly dignified fashion, either. I don’t imagine myself peacefully slipping away in a beautiful bed surrounded by loved ones, with just enough time to deliver a profound final statement that everyone will quote for generations. I particularly like Oscar Wilde’s supposed last words which were reportedly, “My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go.” Then he did. Priceless.
No, my imagination seems to favor something considerably less elegant. Something involving an inconvenient location, an embarrassing circumstance, and the possibility that somebody will have to explain what the hell I was doing when they found me. Probably on the toilet like Elvis (the singer, not my late and sorely lamented dog) or collapsed in an undignified (and very heavy to move) heap in the middle of the living room. Maybe it will happen while Eric is away on one of his famous camping trips and his cats will eat parts of me before anyone finds me… not quite the weight loss I’d hoped for.
To read the full article, go to the Body of a Goddess Blog: https://krasbold.substack.com/p/the-mortality-rabbit-hole