Often teetering on the edge of depression due to a genetic tendency towards anxiety heightened by one or two annoying health issues, it's a constant battle for me to remain upbeat. This might apply to anyone who reads the news every day, what with all the death and destruction, murder and mayhem, and political mudslinging. So you can just imagine how much harder it is when the person you live with, in this case my spouse, ruins breakfast with the declaration, "Being over seventy is like being engaged in a war. All our friends
are going or gone and we survive amongst the dead and dying as on a
battlefield." My husband now talks about death constantly thanks to his iPhone app called "We Croak," which reminds you five times a day that you are going to die. Supposedly this will help you live in the moment and enjoy life to the fullest. All I have to say about that is, "Ha!" I wrote about it in this very space exactly ten days ago when it was a new thing around our house. Now it's an old thing and it's driving me nuts.
For example, we're out somewhere having a good time, like walking in the glorious autumn foliage deep in the Maine woods, when Mitch's phone pings and he shares the message, "Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends." Or we might be out at the movies, chomping on popcorn waiting for the feature to start, when suddenly he intones,"When you're dead you're dead. That's it."
If you know anyone who is considering getting this app, don't let them.
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