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You know you're an adult when you start thinking about your own mortality at the most random times. Like, I was in the middle of a Netflix binge the other day, and out of nowhere, the thought hits me: "I wonder what my autopsy report would say." I mean, is that normal? And speaking of Netflix, have you noticed that every crime documentary starts with the discovery of a dead body? It's like a prerequisite for true crime success. I'm just waiting for a documentary that starts with, "So there I was, minding my own business, when I tripped over a corpse." It's all about setting the mood, I guess.
But seriously, finding a dead body is like life's way of saying, "Hey, remember me? In case you forgot, you're not immortal. Now go eat some vegetables.
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Have you ever tried breaking up with someone, and they take it so badly that you start wondering if maybe faking your own death would have been the more considerate option? I mean, talk about a dramatic exit. Breaking up is hard enough without the added pressure of wondering if your ex is going to turn up on an episode of "Forensic Files." "The case of the broken heart and the missing heartbreaker." I can see it now.
But seriously, it's like, "Hey, I just need some space," not "Hey, I've decided to join the witness protection program." And can we talk about the logistics of faking your own death? Do you hire a body double or just stage an elaborate accident involving a mannequin and a fake car crash? It's like planning the world's weirdest magic trick.
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You ever notice how discovering a dead body is like stumbling upon a surprise party that no one RSVP'd for? I mean, talk about a lack of enthusiasm. You'd think there would be balloons or at least a cake, but nope, just a lifeless human lying there, playing the world's worst game of hide-and-seek. And what's with the crime scene tape? As if that's going to stop me from being curious. "Oh, sorry officer, I was just trying to see if the deceased had any good fashion tips." You know you're an adult when your idea of rebellion is crossing that yellow tape line.
But seriously, finding a dead body is a real test of your detective skills. Do you call the cops right away, or do you channel your inner Sherlock Holmes and start deducing the cause of death? I swear, one minute you're innocently taking a shortcut through an alley, and the next, you're auditioning for a role on CSI.
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You ever worry about what people will find when you're gone? I mean, I'd hate for someone to discover my browser history and think, "Well, he had some questionable taste in cat videos." But imagine being a mortician and accidentally swapping the bodies at a funeral. Talk about a mix-up. I can just picture it: "Today, we gather to remember the life of John Smith, a man who loved gardening and had a great sense of humor. And in the casket, we have... wait, that's not John. That's Mildred from down the street!" Awkward much?
But seriously, mix-ups like that make you appreciate life's simple pleasures, like being able to order a pizza without worrying if you're accidentally getting a pineapple and anchovy surprise. Note to self: leave very clear instructions in the will about proper body identification.
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