I thought my job, marriage, and hairline were depressing. I thought the economy and world violence was a downer. I was turned off by obnoxious family members and loud neighbors. But I didn't know what depressing was until I contracted this flesh eating bacteria.
Here I sit in my lounge chair watching squirrels race after nuts, listening to birds calling each other, feeling a warm breeze against my skin, remembering all the poignant memories of my life when I was full of hope and anticipation.
Now I look down and see that my right foot has fallen off and been carried away by large squirrels.
I take a sip of my tea and sigh deeply. Then my pinkie falls off. I can still grip the cup. I close my eyes and try to block everything out, imaging all that is beautiful in the world, especially flowers. I love flowers.
I am jerked from my reverie by the sun, which is burning my eyes. I realize I'll have plenty of opportunity to appreciate plant life because this disease has eaten up my eyelids. Now I'm really depressed.
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