God, my friend is starting to become insufferable. He’s so obsessed with planning for the next phase of his life that he’s dragging the rest of us down with him. It’s like he’s thinking about all these things and pretending that planning for them will make any sort of difference to his future. Like, no offence mate but analysing the various bathtub remodel costs in the Sydney area and weighing up the pros and cons of different service providers isn’t going to help you live any longer. Life is fragile and could be taken away in a second. Planning for the future isn’t going to help.
That’s why I was completely unreceptive when he first suggested that I start looking into getting my own bathtub remodel. One of my favourite things to do is sit in the bath with a glass of red for a couple of hours on a Sunday evening. If I got a chunk cut out of my bath, I wouldn’t be able to do that.
I guess I should be more accepting of my friend’s fears. He’s obviously really struggling with our inevitable deaths and is trying to overcompensate as a result. It’s just hard to support him when he’s trying to bring me down with him. There’s just no point thinking about these sorts of things. Maybe if I’m eighty and can no longer get in and out of the bath then I’ll look into bathtub cutouts for elderly people, but until then, I see no use in doing so.
For the next twenty years of my life, I’m going to enjoy my bath the way it is. I’m going to revel in the fact that I’m able-bodied and can live my life the way I want to. There’s no point aging myself before I need to. That’s like accepting my inevitable fate and acting as if I’ve died already. No thanks. On that note, I’m off to have a bath now.