My ever observant husband handed me the mail this afternoon and stated he knew when I was going to die.
In my ever positive demeanor I perked up, eager to find out how he knew. Was it from a new online life expectancy app for his iPhone?
Hardly. He had noticed that my lifetime membership for a woman's writing organization expires in September of 2050. I have 38 more years to go before I expire.
Not too shabby, but I was kind of hoping to reach 90 at least, considering all the fish oil pills I take. I emailed the woman responsible for deciding the date of my demise and she seemed to have not given it much thought...she wrote back, "I just put a random waaaaaaay out there date for the lifetime memberships."
So I guess this is the equivalent of an ancient curse. Be granted a lifetime membership and expect when to kick the bucket all at the same time? Fair enough; it was a nice gesture. I just hope they have the decency to kindly ring me up in 38 years to check to see if I need to renew my subscription.
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