Monday, 21 October 2013

Would you want to know when you were going to die?

This one often leaves me in a tangled quandry.
I don't know. It's one of the few things I don't know about myself that causes confusion.

On the one hand, I would like to know, so that I can do the things I want to do before it is too late - but on the other hand, I don't want to have a timer ticking down on me. I would find that awfully anxiety-inducing. I hate time trial games. (Though I do have a great fondness for hourglasses.)

I don't know when I'm going to die. Currently, I'm comfortable without having an "expiry date" - I am all too aware that I could die tomorrow, but I can't do much about that. I am also aware that I could easily live into my late eighties; the women in my family are the sturdy sort, on both sides. This also worries me, for things like pension funding. I can't do much about that other than have a pension plan.

5% of my salary has been put into my plan since I hit 25. I also have a will, mortgage insurance and life insurance - I'm 27. I have plans for the next two years, like getting married, but no major life requirements otherwise. If I died tomorrow, I'd be a bit pissed, sure, but not completely gutted. (Depending on method of expiry, of course - plenty of fish factories round here.)

I don't want for much. I've never needed much. I'm pretty happy with my lot so far.

And I appreciate that's more than many.

So, in the meantime, don't tell me.
I don't think I want to know.

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