Why don’t you add an alert to your calendar to go and buy heavily discounted outdoor furniture at the end of the season? I am longing for benches and pergolas and fences and trellises and more. But it’s all so costly right now. I know that if I wait, I will be able to find it all for half the price when it goes on clearance. So, I won’t have dozens of decadent benches this spring, but next year, my yard will be comparable with a fine park. I can’t wait.


Why don’t you write a children’s book? I have always had an inkling that I would do a good job at it. I did get an A+ in my Children’s Literature class a year or so ago. I mean, reader, I destroyed my competition in that class. So, when I had to decide on a final project for my Environmental Science, I did a children’s book. It was all about the adventure of a camel named Amelia who was scared to death of global warming. I did all the illustrations. It was delightful. It was adorable. I got a perfect score. Write your own, reader. I’m going to work on one about a cat lost in Paris next!


Why don’t you be sure to never get sick so that you never have to worry about becoming ill? That’s impossible of course. Before I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, I found it odd that I was very rarely sick. I would have occasional cold, but otherwise, I was in remarkable good health. Ever since that madness, I have been concerned about every lump and every bump and every tingle. I have had this weird rough patch in my mouth lately, and of course I think it’s the worst form of the worst possible disease. It’s exhausting to have to worry all the time. So just don’t get sick. (Turns out it’s nothing. It’s something, I mean, but nothing to worry about.)


Why don’t you not listen to the advice I shouted for about a decade and get a college degree? We shan’t go on and on about my fight against the system, because it’s a sad story. Abridged version: I don’t regret it, but it would have been nice. Last night I graduated and received my Associate’s Degree. I am inordinately proud of it. Now I’m thinking of all the wonderful things I can do next. Do you think I can manage to do student teaching in Cairo? That would be fabulous.


Why don’t you buy tickets for a Harry Styles concert? Oh wait, you can’t; that was very rude of me. His show sold out in like a minute. I have tickets, though, reader. I repeat: I HAVE TICKETS. Oh, how glorious this is. How marvelous it feels. It’s on a balcony, but I don’t give two bothers. I am one of only about 3,600 people who got tickets. This is extraordinary. I am blessed. I deserve this for having diseases and an awful president and leukoplakia (in my mouth not…elsewhere) and a rolled ankle and an old phone. I deserve it. You probably did too…but you didn’t get tickets…sad. I did. Don’t forget that I did.

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