I’ve never quite understood what they mean when they say “Live each day as if it is your last” I would like to spend the last day of my life stuffing my face with jelly donuts and having hot jungle monkey sex. The last day of my life will probably be spent in a hospital bed, pooping in a diaper and gasping for breath. Truth to tell I’d rather not spend each day doing either of those things…enticing as the first may seem.
My husband has an insanely high IQ. He is a high school drop-out (the high school he dropped out of was Boston Latin and he left because he was bored) who took the LSAT on a whim, studied for it by reading through the study guide they provide, while on a bus from Burlington VT to Boston, MA, made it to the test site barely on time and then scored in the 98th percentile. On the other hand he needs detailed instructions on how to boil water.
One of the side effects of anti-depressants is suicidal thoughts. At least you will die happy.
It seems silly to me but here I am, almost 68, somewhat of a gimp, living pretty much as a recluse and I have never been happier in my whole life. Joy is an every day thing in my world.