When I see my parents, I see my unpleasant future. I kind of hope the world ends in 2012 because getting old doesn’t seem super fantastic.
As a child, I would smear thick layers of peanut butter onto my bread. These sandwiches would contain miniscule amounts of jelly and massive amounts of peanut butter. My mom would say, “Don’t put so much!” My dad would tell me, “Enjoy it now.” He used to have even more peanut butter, but he couldn’t eat that much peanut butter anymore.
Luckily, I have so far avoided his curse of heartburn. (My sister may have inherited that, along with a lesser amount of motion sickness.) However, I noticed that, recently, my stomach no longer accepts as much peanut butter as it used to. This is very sad. Will it get worse as I get older? My parents’ diets are depressing. Plain and lacking flavor. Could I even live life that way?
It’s not only the food thing. My dad also suffers from arthritis. I’ve already been dealing with various ailments, and I don’t know how I would deal with permanent pain. It seems likely that I’ll have to deal with this when I get older. C’mon, science, cure this before I get old!
It’s mostly the food thing that others me. I never have paid attention to food all that much, although I’ve always disliked flavorless food.
Ah well, it could be worse. I’ll just enjoy things for now.