Guess I'm having a good day

So the rapture is right on schedule for whenever it actually happens years after Saturday. People predicting the end of the world are like people who drive with a turn signal on, eventually it will be right (or left-whichever one you've got blinking). What gets me, among the many, many things that get me on any given day is people meeting the end of the world with fear. Now trust me, if hell beasts start roaming the streets and I have to survive on whatever is in my house right now while I fend off my former friends and polite acquaintances for what's left of this wretched earth, this girl will not be having a good time. Those who don't survive the first pass would count themselves lucky for the horror they are spared. But the notion of fear based on the end of life, while natural, is stupid. No one gets out alive. No one. And we cling to it as if one can escape a brush with death and be done with it for all time. I rejoice and thank the Lord a thousand times over that my Mom is still here with us but it has occurred to me that one day, if things progress in the natural order and I don't precede them, I will have to grieve my parents.

But what a good life is about is feeling that shock and grief and loss because truly while there is life there is hope. We can't even help ourselves. The minute we start breathing again on our own, we're sad that we can't walk. We immediately take breathing for granted. Something a machine did for us for over a week we take as a given and wonder when we're going to drive again. That's amazing. That's got to be why we keep searching, keep inventing, keep wanting more than we have. There's a spirit in every living thing that seeks to reach capacity. To be as much as the environment permits. To exceed the environment. The more we take for granted, the better the run at life we're having. I didn't think anything of walking until I watched my Mom struggle to wipe her nose. I get to itch all my scratches, type, shower, wash my hair, complain about how much my feet hurt (and they do hurt-Lord, it's like I'm being stabbed) after a long walk or a run. I don't even think twice about being grateful for mobility.

Just when I try to be grateful effin blogger loses half my post and all my changes. Got your number blogger....we'll see if you're among the chose this Saturday. My guess is you are heading for a world-of-hurt-apocolypse. Serves you right.

I hate computers.