I read this thing somewhere that people who take up drinking in midlife have memory problems later on. I’d link it but I can’t remember where I read it.
I wish I was better at math and prognostication than I am so I could figure out if I can retire at 8:00 am ET tomorrow. This job is killing me.
In my husband’s familial medical history, all deaths are anecdotal instead of being linked to a medical reason. Uncle Zaki came for Sunday dinner and then he died. Yvette went on a train to Maadi and then she died. My father died from aggravation after Nasser nationalized private business. My mother’s heart was broken when she was widowed and then she died. My aunt dreamed about her dead mother and then she died.
Suzette was excoriated on 8 consecutive conference calls in 8 hours with the end game being to make the big execs look good and then she died.
I’m going to start using those big 24 oz iced coffee cups from McDonald’s for my post-work collapse Gin & Dubonnet application. And then I am going to die.
Or forget why I want to.