A Gloomy Boomer Update

I’m kinda living on the edge right now. My main deal is, I’m out of work. I need to get out there and find a job. That’s right, a guy my age (soon to be seventy) out of work. Not out of work as in comfortably retired like most of you. More like out of work and wondering if I’ll soon be living in a cardboard box. The only comfort I take from my current state of affairs is that I’m not the only one. My office, good old Starbucks, is bringing in Social Workers to deal with the homeless. Or unhoused, they call them. I don’t use the word UNHOUSED because it sounds like you lost your storage container. The plain fact of the matter is you got nowhere to live but the street? That makes you HOMELESS. Simple as that.

I’m not homeless. I got Scruffy.

He’s not even leaking.

I solved the leaking problem (for the time being).

So I’m good until the old boy sinks or I get evicted or some awful shit rains down on me from a nuclear bomb, which is a distinct possibility based on current predictions.

The Doomsday Clock

Okay, well…..I suppose it doesn’t matter that I’m living on the edge.

Because we’re all living on the edge.

I got nothing to worry about. We’re all of us (rich, poor, gifted and unhoused) we’re all going down together. I should just groove into my cardboard box (when it comes to that) and hang loose until I’m vaporized.

Who knows? I might even get lucky.

Except I’ll be vaporized, so forget about it.

Doomsday has put me on a lifter

Knowing I’ll be vaporized along with the rest of the world at midnight has put me on a lifter. Doomsday is only ninety seconds away. I’m feeling a whole lot better but the feeling is starting to fade as I speak. The world may not come to an end in ninety seconds. It may not happen. It’s only a prediction. It’ll probably happen. But you never know. We won’t know. Who’s gonna warn us? The missiles leave their silos and we got twenty or so minutes before we’re vaporized. Who’s gonna warn us?

“FOLKS. LISTEN UP, FOLKS. PROCEED TO KISS YOUR ASSES GOODBYE BECAUSE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES CORRECTION THIRTEEN MINUTES WE WILL ALL BE VAPORIZED.”

Nobody’s gonna warn us. You think Adam Schiff or Kevin McCarthy or Donald Trump or even Old Joe will warn us? HA! Those prominent fellow citizens will be safe within their hermetically sealed life sustaining crypts when the radiation sizzles our skins.

The only problem with having one of these crypt type pads? You’ll need to live in them for maybe a hundred thousand years. And say you’re an ordinary dude like me and luck out and land one of these pads? Where do you pick up your social security check? I mean, can you trust the government to direct deposit the funds like they usually do?

Maybe it’s best to worry about that once I’m tucked into my crypt…because I’ll be alive still.

Okay…I’m on a groove

I’m feeling a whole lot better. Knowing we’re all of us on edge gives one a sense of tranquility. I think I’ll head back to Scruffy and whip up a little dinner. Maybe some chicken and dumplings. Or a ham sandwich. Or even a nice healthy vegie soup with a green salad. Drink some wine. Not cheap wine. Marginally good wine. Kick back and dwell in gratitude like I learned from reading Eckhart Tolle.

Now I’m thinking about it, I wonder if Eckhart has a bomb shelter?

I suspect he’s on Oprah’s save list.