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Question: How long until I die? |
I was quite sure it was my spleen. This is concerning because those little spleeny things in there seem important and my paternal grandmother died of acute pancreatitis at a very early age, and I am fairly certain that those two organs are bros, thus (logically) I was also likely on my way out. Write up the will. Tess gets the white and silver daisy tea cup from Lacko Slott.
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Lacko Slott, sorry Swedes, I have no double dots for you. |
What's worse is that everyone is going to make fun of me for dying! Right? No, I know this doesn't make sense to you, but it really does. Here's Ms. Daisy, all healthy, swimming every minute she can, doing organic triathlons, promoting organic tampons, drinking organic kombucha, eating all her organic bananas and rubbing organic chia seeds into her organic natural peanut butter with hemp and flax, and she dies before she's the ripe old age of 40. See? What good is eating that organic crap anyway, look how it worked out for the busted spleen lady! I'm just going to sit here and suck down a bunch of Coke Zero and McDonald's and live until I'm at least twice her pathetic dead age. Then they'll taunt my dead soul with, "YOU DIDN'T EVEN WIN AT MAKING IT TO 100."

And then they'll do my makeup all horrible in my casket so I'll have to come back as a ghost and shut it so you can't look. Do not even try. I will spill your stupid Coke Zero so fast your head will spin.
Meanwhile, back on a different level of reality, I got to thinking that perhaps it had something to do with my ridiculously excessive consumption of every kind of nut and seed I could find in the house and maybe I should try just backing that bus up for a minute. Huh, that's a novel idea. I had to figure something out as people were starting to threaten me with the idea of actually going to the doctor (no).
The following day after my epiphany, I would say the frequency of my spleen explosions cut in half. It decreased steadily after that and by the weekend, I forgot I even had a spleen.
Sigh of relief! Who wants to think about those organs anyway! Not me! Back to the organic triathlons!
The moral of the story? I am pretty sure there isn't one. Wait, yes there is: Don't drink Coke Zero.
Peace, love, and bananas,
Ms. Daisy
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