A note on mortality and the future

Somehow it’s February. Do you ever notice how quickly time passes these days? And then acknowledge that scientifically it has always passed at the same rate, but that your perception of its speed has sped up, or has it, and that perception is ultimately all that matters to you, and then realize that the time from when you were born until now feels like nothing because it is and the amount of time between tomorrow and death is the same and spiral into a panic?

I am fairly confident I am going to live to be old. The only evidence I have to the contrary is the tv show-worthy level of written, undiscovered nonsense I’m leaving for those close to me to discover after I die. As if that isn’t irrational enough, the reason I think I’ll live to be old is because “God takes those he loves most first.” Lol. But what I mean is that it seems to me that often those who die young have the best hearts, and the rest of us are given more time to get ourselves in order.

At least that’s my strategy to make sense of the world and put myself down simultaneously. Share yours in the comments below.

 

I consider myself a moody person (like think I might have bipolar personality disorder but am avoiding being diagnosed because I think that would just worsen it and am not interested in taking anything for it moody). As such, it is difficult for me to commit to describing my personality in any certain terms, other than noncommital. One thing though, which is pretty constant about me is my “mindfulness of” (read: obsession with) optimization. It has been a help and a hindrance, but it is me. And that’s fine. But how the hell am I supposed to choose where I want to live.

So far, I’ve lived in a few central California towns, Santa Barbara, San Francisco, a few Sacramento-area towns, and Sacramento itself. As I depart each, I like to think I move forward with a slightly more refined search in what I want from my next, and potentially final destination. Lol. One bubble I nervously kept down as long as I could but was finally burped up in January is the very real likelihood that there are criteria I have not even included in my search because they do not exist (or do so rarely) in California. State-wise, I’ve only been to CA, Nevada (read: Las Vegas), Oregon (read: Portland), and Washington (read: Vancouver), that I can remember. But I thought each was awesome in it’s differentness from California. This lent validity to the bubble, and so a roadtrip was conceived and the baby is due later this year! There is a bigger bubble lurking beneath, named “Every other country on the planet,” but I’m keeping it down until I can afford that burp.

Do you think I’m crazy for not wanting to choose somewhere to live until I’ve quit my job and travelled the country? Comment no for no, comment no for yes. Xo

P.s. Do you ever think about the inherent incongruence of living in an age which as at once defined by both terms “special snowflake” and “big data?” Is it an oxymoron or a paradox?

 

hannah

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