I saw my doctor a week ago, and was stunned to learn that I only have 40 years to live, give or take a decade or two. A lot depends on controversial medical advances, like the individual mandate.
Of course, I went through the usual stages of denial, anger, bargaining, binge eating and acceptance. Actually, I guess I'm stuck in that binge eating phase. That's kind of working for me.
But it’s a sobering thing, looking death in the face like this. It makes you re-examine your priorities. You want to make every second count. You don’t want to spend your final half-century lost in some pointless routines like Facebook. You want to break old habits, and see what else life has to offer, like Twitter and Pinterest. You question how much time you want to spend languishing in front of a computer, instead of breaking down and getting a freaking iPad already.
But there’s so much I want to do! I want to have dinner at the most romantic restaurant in Paris, followed by a leisurely walk along the Seine, but wake up to bagels in New York. I want to find a group of scholars with whom I can discuss all the works of Shakespeare, O’Neill and Dave Barry. I want to bicycle through the English countryside, stopping at all the quaint little towns to sneer at the food.
Most importantly, I want to convey to my loved ones how important they are. I want to send them deep, heartfelt messages like “I ♥ U” and “My PIN is ...”.
Don’t let a minute go by.