I'm Allergic to Apples

By constantly forcing my net income to reach break-even levels, I've had to make certain sacrifices in my day-to-day and week-to-week life. I don't drink as much or go out as much on weekends anymore for one thing, and I bring my lunch to work at least a few days a week. Big mistake.

I'm hungry every minute that doesn't fall between 12:30 and 12:37, which is the period of time it takes to eat a meager sandwich and a little "baggie" full of chips -- downed with water. I'd bring fruit, but the only fruit that doesn't require refridgerator maintenance is the apple.

I'm allergic to apples. Isn't hasn't always been this way, but over the last 5 or 6 years of my life, eating raw apples has resulted in some unpleasant symptoms involving my the internal pathways in my head.

So what fruit did my student worker leave on her desk today? I rationalized taking her apple because I think I could afford buying her a Grannie Smith for the next time she comes in. But, oh, the caution that's lost when hunger is involved! Be damned allergies, I'm hungry! Instead of giving her the 79 cents for a new apple, I should forward her the bill to my funeral. That deadly little ball has made my afternoon hell. Have you ever wanted to scratch your teeth? Not the gums, but the actual bone of your teeth? I'm sure more would have caused my throat to collapse. At least I would get the day off tomorrow and forever more.

That leads me into part two of today's rant. I can't decide how I want to be memorialized when I die. Right now it's between burial and cremation -- yes, standard stuff, but so infinitely complicated if you're looking to rise from the dead.

Burial: First off, I would have an extremely ornate headstone (possibly rotating styles) or maybe one of those creepy houses. No doubt you at least know the premise of Night of the Living Dead or perhaps even Return of the Living Dead. I could definitely handle some weird phenomena or maybe acid rain to reanimate my body. I, being of strong will, would naturally be able to control myself as a zombie and re-enter society in the 22nd century. Maybe even be king of all zombies, with that creepy house as my castle. Note: this will not work if I am buried at sea. I'm shooting for king of zombies, not fish.

Cremation: I don't really understand people who want to be cremated. I suppose once you're dead, you're dead and that's that, but I would prefer a casket, just so I could be paraded up and down the street (casket upright and open) on the back of a flatbed truck and followed by my friends and family. There would be balloons and possibly a rock band involved. But this isn't about "what if's"; it's about "what could be's". There's been some news about having your ashes put into a lipstick-sized container and shot into space. After ten years, the container holding your ashes and the ashes of some others will fall out of Earth's orbit and burn into the atmosphere. I'm down with that. Star Trek creator Gene Rodenberry did it and so did Jerry Garcia. If I do it, however, I'd be gunning for solar and/or cosmic rays to affect the DNA inside my lipstick case and turn me into some sort of space being capable of destroying worlds. I would spare the Earth, but never forget those who betrayed me... Whoops, wrong plot.

So, as you can see, dilemmas still exist beyond the grave, but there are solutions. I don't want to be near any apples when I wake up, though.