Is this week recycling week? Should I have put the extruded plastic steak container in the recycling? Did it have a triangle on the back? Is it going to landfill anyway? Back to counting.
These are but a few steps in my morning marathon of body maintenance. It’s fit ball-hugging, moccasin-bridging, tennis ball foot-rolling followed by the downing of multifarious unproved health enhancers - glucosamine, fish oil, horseradish, garlic, vitamin C, not to mention asthma inhalers and exhalers. All in the name of mitigating the risks, the fruitless struggle against body and mind decay. Taking care of ourselves...
Robert Dessaix suggests in The Time of Our Lives we are able to care less as we grow older. ‘We care less about what people think of us and whether we measure up to others’ expectations of us. At a certain point towards the end, if you have all your faculties intact, you’re unlikely to give a rat’s arse about anything very much at all (except, just possibly, global warming)’.
Well, a cardboard coffin would take care of that – one less thing for my grieving children and the planet to worry about when I go. A cardboard coffin and a Cherry Ripe in my hands– just in case a death throe will allow it to go from folded hands to mouth.
It’s a long and arduous journey off the rails through the afterlife, and I for one am thoroughly sick of “minding the gap” in this one.
