Who Needs a Body, & Who Needs an Earth, Anyway?
They’re so high maintenance and I just don’t have time
Let me put it to you this way, if I could get by without either, I would!
’Cause everything good for me tastes bad or takes effort, and everything I like is killing me.
I’d say put me out of my misery but I don’t know if they have MuddyUm and chocolate in the afterlife.
You know, given it’s like forever, wouldn’t it make sense to have just a wee bit of reliable info about it? Not the whole movie but at least a well-designed trailer. Is that too much to ask?
The main problem with having a body is the maintenance. It’s so much work.
And the older I get, the more it takes.
Just when I’m at the stage in my life when I can relax, don’t have to set an alarm or answer to anybody, bam!
I’m plagued with issues I have to attend to. Research. Get help with. Change my lifestyle over.
You know the ones: dehydration. Wrinkles. Constipation. Hemorrhoids. And in my case, kyphosis (look it up this time!) and skin cancer.
Did I work 31 long, hard years in the public health care system only to get lectured about water and fiber intake? Or posture and sunscreen, thank you very much!
I’m a busy writer. I have blogs to edit and post, encouraging comments to make, and stats to check. Well, okay, I really don’t have to check those stats. They’re moving so slow right now there’s nothing to check. Yep, just like yesterday, going down. Again!
I peaked at the Oscars.
No, I didn’t win one. But when I did what I normally do — write about what’s up for me — what’s up for me was trending. That infamous slap. Without intending to, I wrote four (Medium) posts about it, and my stats spiked.
I hate when that happens.
Because after they spike they go down. Otherwise, It wouldn’t be a spike, would it?
It’s painful to watch. Reminding me my success is accidental. Not merit-based. Like gambling. I hit the numbers that day and my reads shot up in the stratosphere. Okay, the 500s. That’s the stratosphere in my blog-o-verse. Your results will vary. Hopefully, be much much higher.
But like gambling, I come back and back and back, chasing that original high. That’s what we addicts do.
And eat chocolate while drinking designer lattes. And read erotica. And go down black holes in social media, like TikTok. Or Pinterest, where the holes are at least pretty.
What we don’t do is go outside and get fresh air and exercise. That could give me more skin cancer. Or drink wheatgrass with spinach and spirulina. I’d be on the pot all day. When would I write?
Bodies make about as much sense as having a dog.
No less. A dog is at least faithful and licks you from time to time. But they also have to be fed and walked at regular intervals, and annoy you till you do.
When I’m in the middle of a serious post such as this one and have to go tinkle, it ruins my whole train of thought. When you’re writing spontaneous drivel, once that gets interrupted, it’s nigh on impossible to get back in the same flow. As Heraclitus said, you can’t step in the same river twice.
Which is why I dread drinking water. There’s always the danger of floods. Especially since it takes longer to extract myself from my comfy spot here and my precious thoughts.
They say I don’t need 8 cups a day. Now they’re saying 11.5. Of all the nerve! I figure each cup requires 2–3 trips to the toilet. So that’s like 33 pees. I want my writing to flow, not my bladder, thank you very much.
See how bodies are such pains in the arse.
So is the Planet
If you think the care and feeling of a body is high maintenance, just extrapolate that out to the entire planet. Sheesh! No wonder it’s in such dire shape.
Who has time for walking instead of riding? Who, besides Greta has three weeks to get from the U.S. to Portugal on a tiny wave-tossed schooner?
And wasn’t that just media hype anyway? I bet her dad, at least, was grateful when the skipper in the crow’s nest yelled land ho! And I bet that captain was slick enough to charge them double the cost of Aero-Euro tickets. Caveat Emptor right?
Simply put, we use chemicals cause they save time. Who wants to sit in a field under the burning sun all day pulling aphids off of tomatoes? They just hop back on as soon as your back is turned.
Or drink water out of metal containers. That makes my teeth hurt.
Besides, saving the planet costs money.
Electric cars. Solar panels. Organic produce. Eco-vacays. Have you priced this stuff lately? Ironically, the people who can most afford these things are often the ones who deny it’s a problem. Go figure!
But if they all got woke to it, and were willing to invest in all that stuff for the rest of us, then I’d sign on the dotted line. If it’s so gosh darn important, then at least, make it easy. Or free. Or both.
Otherwise, I’m going back to my blogging. You’ll have to save the manatees without me.
But I’m warning you. By the time your kayak gets to Florida, they might all be extinct. See what I mean?
Oh, by the way, Happy Belated Earth Day!
Marilyn Flower writes humor to laugh the changes she wants to see and make. She’s the author of Creative Blogging: Ninja Writers Guide to Character Development and Bucket Listers, Get Your Brave On. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her resolve during these crazy times. Stay in touch!
Marilyn, your mind is SO filled with interesting ways you bring things into the light, and add humor to your observations....even if serious! (like taking care of our planet) NJoy