Thoughts on Life Expectancy

I have often mentioned that I have very little time remaining. That's not to be taken lightly. Given the data on pops and the numerous uncles on both sides of my family, I can estimate that I have about 20 years on average remaining. My chances of suffering from some form of cancer is pretty high, too.

Typical Young Hottie

So, what exactly will transpire during the next (and last) twenty years? I am "pushing the envelope" insofar as the "good years" is concerned. I am looking at five years maximum. Then, physical degradation will accelerate. The last 15 years of my life, as with all senior citizens, will be physically and mentally challenging, to say the least.

Five years is not much time. If there is anything that I need to accomplish which requires full physical and mental capacity, then those tasks must be completed in next five years. After that ... game over!

Of course, my lifespan could stretch out for 30 more years. I almost can't imagine how emaciated and weak I would be, but there are myriad decrepit senior citizens around me to provide visual insight. However, as a single male with no family or friends, I may not even make the duration of twenty years, at least according to the pseudoscience "pundits." Nonetheless, I am no longer assured that life beyond 70 years of age would be worth the trouble.

The first pathetic milestone will be the natural deprecation of the Vienna Sausage. Everything will be downhill from that point. Thus, I am monitoring the latter fervently. And, stressing the fact that there may only be five "good years" left, the preoccupation with minutiae and trivia becomes totally ludicrous. Thus, I must begin to plan my exit strategy ... that is, my final exit.

"Crack House" in Chinatown Mini-Update®
A new overzealous representative at the property management firm that oversees rentals in the "crack house" in Chinatown took it upon herself to re-evaluate my financial position. Long story short, I have been disqualified from the applicant pool. I am stuck at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) for the time being.

Homeless Buddy Mini-Update®
My homeless buddy has decided to end his chemotherapy treatment in favor of surgery. He does not want to go through six months of torture. He also received a letter from the property management firm representing the "crack house" in Chinatown. Rather than being offered a rental unit, he has been placed on a three-year waiting list.