Your Next Existential Crisis

My phone vibrates. I pull it out of my pocket to see it’s my next existential crisis calling. I press DISMISS. I’ve fallen for this several times before. Always answering. Always left reeling.

I go outside.

I smoke some weed.

I drink some beer.

More weed than beer because I finally realized I don’t like waking up feeling like shit.

I think about my life.

It’s good.

It’s almost everything I want it to be, and that’s more than enough. It’s more than the vast majority of people have. Not just material things. All the other things too. The things you don’t talk about because people either think you’re gloating or wildly delusional.

Maybe you are both of those things.

So what.

Delusion is a tremendous amount of work and gloating is a lot like spreading positivity.

But if you’d answered that call …

You’d spend the rest of your life obsessing on the almost, trying to find it, trying to make it perfect, trying to take away the good you feel, the good you have.

Now you feel guilty.

Maybe you should have answered it.

You look at your phone.

You look at the missed number.