“All levels are within normal limits.”
That is what the pre-recorded computer message said to me on my voicemail. I had my physical at the doctor’s office last week, which consisted of the same ritual of checking blood pressure, drawing blood, and a few minutes with an over-worked doctor who is doing his best to be concerned.
The next day, I get the call that all my limits are “normal”. I expect all of my limits to be normal. I count on all of my limits to be normal. If my limits aren’t normal then, God forbid, I will have to start taking better care of myself. I will have to stop eating the foods that I know are bad for me and start eating the foods that keep people healthy. I will have to start regimenting my exercise and paying more attention to my sleep habits. I will need to stop stressing and start meditating. Hell, I might even need to stop freaking out when I don’t get my way. Thank heavens I don’t need to worry about any of that stuff now, cause all my limits are “normal.”
Being that I have normal limits, it makes sense to continue to worry about the trivial bullshit. I can continue to worry about not having the money to buy the things I don’t need to begin with. I can worry about what the people think who I don’t have any respect for in the first place. And I can proceed with being fearful of a future that I might not even live to see.
“Normal limits” allow me to forego living a life of gratitude until I have ample warning that my time is running out. I can ignore all of the luxuries that this world has provided me and continue to focus on garbage media, trashy politics, and whatever else I can search out to throw me off balance and disrupt my happiness. I can proceed with the suffering that comes with envy and move forward in my resentments that bring about anger and a short-temper.
When the day comes that I have a legitimate health scare, that is when I will appreciate my life; that is when I will see things for what they are. Only then will I be genuinely accepting of people and appreciative of my surroundings.
Until then, I can live selfishly in a marvelously miraculous world and under-appreciate almost every piece of it, all the while being overpaid in every aspect my life, but continue to feel as if I deserve more.
Being within “normal limits” should be a call for a celebration. It should come with a smile attached and an excitement surrounding it.
Enjoy your day. Time is running out. It’s only a matter of time until the call isn’t automated and news isn’t “normal.”
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,