My life is full. I do what I love, and I’ve never let the little things get in my way. No, I’m a firm believer in good habits: gym every morning, work late, while the kids are sleeping. I don’t sleep much, but it’s never bothered me. Because it’s like they say: I’ll sleep when I’m dead. And frankly, that’s the only thing that keeps me going.
I don’t like to complain, but I’ve never been a great sleeper. I could never find the right mattress—soft, hard, in between, nothing ever worked. I even bought a Tempur-Pedic. I tried weighted blankets, down comforters, goose down pillows, alternative goose down pillows, Mr. Pillows, all to no avail. I always wake up after a long night of tossing and turning, achy and sweaty. I suppose you can imagine what my relief will be when I go under for my final rest, a sleep from which I’ll never wake up disappointed. Coffins are the only kind of mattress you can really count on; they’re the hardest mattress on the market.
I'm a professional, and being good at my job is important to me. Hard work, perseverance, and ambition might all be clichés, but they give my life meaning. The respect of my colleagues makes me feel good. It may sound mundane, but all the training I've done in our software suite has really paid off. But you can't use Excel when you're dead. And I thank God for that every day.
Sometimes, I picture myself in fifty years. Maybe my kids will have kids by then, and I’ll know the joys of being a grandparent. That one ranks right up there, just below the pure night of being unconscious forever, with things I’m looking forward to.
Yeah, life has been good. Sometimes I can’t believe my luck: wife, kids, a beautiful home. I worked hard and sacrificed much, it’s true, but I’ve been truly been blessed. Still, if you took all my blessings and put them on a scale, they’d be peanuts compared to the bliss I’m going to feel when I finally conk out for good. Man, is that going to be sweet.
I like to be comfortable. The older I get, the more I value having nice things. My office at home is state of the art. I have a standing desk, and one of those chairs that you can’t sit down on, to keep you moving and thinking. It’s true, sometimes I want to lie down, or at least sit in a normal chair so I can lean back. But then I remember that you get to lie down forever, in a coffin, once you’re dead. What a luxury that will be.
When I drift pleasantly into the endless night, will there be a God? I hope not, because then I’d have to waste precious time with some kind of cosmic rigmarole when I could be doing what I want to do—laying down, letting out a satisfied sigh, and never waking up.
When I look back on my life, are there some things I regret? Sure. Things I wish I had done a little differently? Absolutely. Everybody feels that way, I imagine. I wouldn’t do it over, though, not for the whole world. Because if I had to do it over, I’d have to wait even longer before I can finally lie down. Why start all over again when I’ve come so far, and I have so much to look forward to?