Fail, fail, fail, fail, succeed


That’s how many days you’ve got if you make it to 80.

I’ve already lived 23,100.

That gives me 6,100 days left, assuming I get there.

So what do I want to do with this rapidly shrinking chunk of time?

Well, if you step back and look at the big picture, in the grand scheme of the universe, a single life means nothing. Hell, an entire species probably means nothing – or even a planet for that matter.

But maybe that’s the wrong perspective – maybe the right way to look at it is that I’ve won the lottery already. I’m alive, I have a good life, and somebody loves me.

Everything else is a gift.