my golden years

Post hip chick is coming up on her 1 year mark of not smoking. I feel her pain. I quit 6 months ago...for the last time. I will not ever smoke again. I will not ever smoke again. I will not...oh, you get it. She mentioned that her plan is to start again when she is 80, which reminded me that I have not yet mentioned my plans for my golden years just yet.

Let me explain that given the two rather ill-placed holes in my heart, I have been subjected to a drug-free existence. I am as clean as the proverbial whistle. My feelings are that this is a blessing in disguise; I think I'd have been quite the speed-freak, given the chance. Alas, the strongest stuff to ever go up my nose was a line of pixie stick candy-on a dare, and I don't recommend it to anyone. My brain dried out. It hurt.

With that bit o' background knowledge, I give you my retirement plan.

When I hit an age where I just don't have to care anymore, I fully intended to try every drug I have missed out on all these years. No one will suspect a thing, since I will be at the age of senility anyway. They will expect me to be cooky. I will spend all of my money, and so no one will have anything to fight over once I'm gone. And if my poor heart can't take it, as I have been told it can't, well then I imagine I will be altered enough to not care.

That's my plan. I have put perhaps too much thought into it. I know it's bad, but everyone's gotta have a goal, right?