Today I found out when I’m supposed to die.
I haven’t told the wife yet but I think she probably knows.
Earlier today the planets aligned just right and I found myself with about 10 minutes of idle time at work.
So I got on my taxpayer-supplied, government-owned computer and cruised the internet for a bit.
I found myself at a website where I could take this test and it would tell me how long I have to live.
You know: do I exercise, what do I eat, smoke, drink or if I get stressed out?
All the usual stuff your doctor asks you and we lie about because we don’t want to look like a boob.
This time I tried to be truthful since no one was looking back at me in astonishment.
I finished it up and clicked submit.
The answer came back.
It says I died three years ago.
Funny, I don’t feel dead, not that I have any experiencer with that.
Unless, of course, I’m really dead.
And it could be.
My wife occasionally tells me I need a shower because I stink.
Dead people stink, so maybe I am.
After my dog died someone looked at me and said I looked “like death warmed over”.
I thought I was just sad.
Maybe I was wrong.
Sometimes I walk down the hallway and say hello to a lady going the other way.
She ignores me.
Maybe I’m dead and not really there.
I always thought being dead had something to do with sitting on clouds, and wings, and stuff like that.
The test has to be correct, after all I found it on the internet.
I wonder if the IRS would buy that.