Maxim for Life (and death)

I don't know who wrote this, but I love it.

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming, "WOO HOO! What a ride!"

Not that I wouldn't mind getting there looking totally hot, (who knows who I'd run into in the hereafter) but I could live with that. (die like that. whatever.) Although at the rate I'm going, I'll probably get there worn out and weary from lack of sleep, weak from hunger, drained from a bad head cold; just plain dead beat, and then have just enough strength to mutter "Oh I can sleep now?" before I collapse.

R.I.P

Our old security guard was a lovely man. Always ready with a quick hello and a sincere, generous smile.

Less than 2 weeks ago, he’d asked for his goodwill; money paid to employees who have been in faithful service over many years. He’d told our maid he wanted to enjoy the fruits of his labour while he was still alive; if left to his son, his years of struggle would be washed away through his son’s drinking habit.

It was not to be. Destiny is a fickle lady.

This morning, we heard the news he had passed away. A heart attack in the prime of his life, just before he could retire and return home to enjoy the dusk of his days with loved ones.

May he rest in eternal peace.

In other news, an elderly, half-paralysed, widowed woman in my neighbourhood got beaten and robbed in her own home. And my recently married cousin's husband has been diagnosed with a degenerative bone disease that will cripple him in a few years.

Whoever said "troubles come in threes" knows life so well.