So many of my high school classmates have died by now that it's giving me the creeps. I just heard about two more. Am I next? And if I am, what will happen to all my unsold paintings? And worse, all my handbags? Many of them are like new, since my obsession involves buying them but not necessarily using them. (It's a sickness.)
Who will water my plants? Will they die with me? What about the cat? He will miss me terribly as I am the only one in the family who knows exactly how long to microwave his food. (He likes it not too hot, but not too cold either.)
The worst part is that I won't know how my son's life turns out. I swear, if I am reincarnated I won't have children or pets. Or plants. Or buy anything.
I hope I come back as a monk. They live out their lives in one room in a monastery, have no material possessions and wear the same clothes every day. The long brown robe, the rope belt, the sandals. Sort of like Mark Zuckerberg, only poor.
I hope I come back as a monk. But since I am still alive, I'm going to pile all of my handbags, or at least most of them, into my Audi A4 and take them to a consignment shop this week. As for my paintings, check them out on my website and if you want one it's yours for a song, any song, plus shipping. (www.andrearoudapainter.com)
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