Dorothy Parker once said, “Money cannot buy health, but I’d settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair.” This year that quote hits me with a double-burger level of irony: Upon posting the fattest check I’ve ever sent to the IRS, I doubled over in a back spasm and still haven’t been able to straighten without squawking. It’s hard to gracefully absorb the meaning of a physical metaphor when gritting your teeth with an ice pack and Old Testament levels of pain–but sometimes such an alarm clock is the only way the subconscious can get through to you. As usual, the first and foremost message is this: never take health and mobility for granted. Beyond that, as I ogle my ceiling and cancel my appointments, all I can say is: You’ve got my attention, universe. I am listening.
Dorothy Parker once said, “Money cannot buy health, but I’d settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair.” This year that quote hits me with a double-burger level of irony: Upon posting the fattest check I’ve ever sent to the IRS, I doubled over in a back spasm and still haven’t been able to straighten without squawking. It’s hard to gracefully absorb the meaning of a physical metaphor when gritting your teeth with an ice pack and Old Testament levels of pain–but sometimes such an alarm clock is the only way the subconscious can get through to you. As usual, the first and foremost message is this: never take health and mobility for granted. Beyond that, as I ogle my ceiling and cancel my appointments, all I can say is: You’ve got my attention, universe. I am listening.