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How I Beat the Universe

Here’s the story of hoarding, saying goodbye, and how I’m now fat.

You know, has anyone else ever gotten a cold the day before a funeral? A funeral where the forecast is rain, rain and more rain, on what will already be a dreadful day anyway? Just checking. And we’re not talking a little cold, here. Nope. We’re talking a full-blown cold, the kind where one’s nose will literally not stop running, one’s eyes are bright red and streaming and one’s farts are uncontrollable. Does that happen to anyone else when they have a cold? Hmm. On top of that, my throat is so hoarse I sound like an old woman and my kidneys hurt so I’m hunched over, also like an old woman. My ears are also crackling like a witch’s cauldron and I’ve thrown up more times than I care to mention. And sure, people get sick, but I was fine when I got home from work at five on Thursday and literally one hour later… I needed a bucket, put it that way. Nobody, in the whole of human history, has ever gone from tip-top rosy to death’s door in that space of time. It’s at this point I wanted to start shaking my fist at the universe but that would probably just have made it angrier…

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