One More Birthday

I just had a birthday recently. Last weekend, actually. Gemini, you know, the communicator. And I spent my life writing fiction--what can you say? Anyway, birthdays are like sweet/sour chicken. It's sweet to see the respect and love pouring out toward you with gifts and hugs and well wishes. It's sour to realize another damn year has flown past so fast it makes your head spin.

I found a website that scared me a little. It's Deathclock (http://www.deathclock.com) where you can find out how much time you have left until you die. It's a general thing, based on your present age, body mass index, smoker or non-smoker, etc. I'm supposed to stick around until August of 2020 and then the (drum roll) Deathclock catches up with me. Fifteen years my mind screeched. Only fifteen years?? Oh my. That doesn't seem like a very long time. It could have been worse, sure. Like fourteen years left to live. Or five. Or one.

So if you aren't strong of heart and mind, don't go messing with the Deathclock. I don't want to be the cause of someone dropping into a deep depression here. But being of a morbid bent, I couldn't resist tryng out the clock.

I'm wondering what I want to do with my fifteen years. I could sit around like some old retired bum and do nothing, but you know now I'm a Gemini and Geminis don't sit still for anything, even old age. Should I take up skydiving? Find a rewarding new source of employment besides novel writing? Fly kites in the park? I'm not sure yet exactly what a person ought to do with fifteen years, the last fifteen years. (The first fifteen years are spent in total agony, let's hope the last fifteen are somewhat better.) If you have any suggestions for how to spend time in a wonderfully fun fashion, chime in, I'm all ears.

And while you're thinking of some things one could do with the last fifteen years of one's life, give a little thought to the countdown of life going on in your own teeny tiny aging cells (no matter how old you are). Tick, tick, tick. The clock is running, baby.