A healthy dose of hedonism

My boss forwarded me an email today that I think, at one point or another, we have all seen. It's (supposedly) an email from a woman dying from cancer who lists off things that she would have done differently given the chance (ie. she wouldn't have demanded the windows of her car be rolled up on a hot summer day to avoid the wind tousling her coiffed and sprayed hair; she would have spent more time listening to her grandfather's rambling stories).
It got me to pondering (yeah, yeah, is there anything that doesn't?) and to me the letter advocated more hedonism, and less fretting about stupid stuff. Perhaps, just perhaps, I have been known to be a little more concerned with some of the smaller details in life than one might deem necessary. Or healthy. It may be a sign of... oh, I don't know, insanity? that I have trouble getting to sleep when I remember I really need to check my tire pressure and wash my car. This woman's email said to me: enjoy life more. Have more fun. Relax a little. I think I do, though. I have long, superhot soaks in the tub while drinking wine and listening to jazz. I sometimes turn my phone off before 10pm! I try not to beat myself up about the $80 pair of jeans that I just bought. I sleep in as often as possible.
But why stop there? I mean, this woman said that we should enjoy every possible moment. Who knows when the deck of cards might come crashing down? And in that vein I started thinking: I've had a hankering for McDonald's for a few months now - why don't I go eat there tonight? I could even eat there weekly? Over dessert the other night I actually clapped my hands with glee (I do this when I'm extremely happy and my friends seem unnerved by it) as I exclaimed, "I never have dessert!". They said, "Why?". Why indeed? I could have dessert every night. I also have been wanting to have a chocolate bar. Why am I going to my running clinic tonight? I would much rather rent a movie and have a couple of glasses of wine. Why am I training for a marathon anyways? Getting up at 7am on Sundays is ridiculous! You know what's better than getting up that bloody early on Sundays to run 25 or 32 kilometres? Yeah. Pretty much anything. Sudoku is getting on my nerves: I should just read People magazine or better yet - get cable! Recyling takes a bit of time and I'm not having kids, so why should I care what kind of environment imprint I'm leaving behind.
Basically, I just want to eat, drink, sleep and play with my friends a lot. That would be ideal. That would be the epitome of a great life. Having arrived at this logical conclusion I was then confronted with another cliche: everything in moderation.
If I eat too much, I'm gonna get fat. I'm happy being skinny. If I stop running I will get cranky, and no one wants to be around me when I'm cranky. If I have dessert all the time I'll never get to be so excited by it that I will resort to clapping my hands. If I stop trying to challenge myself mentally, I will let myself down and my relationships with others will suffer (my friends and I don't much discuss Britney or Paris or toy dogs, and somehow manage to have stimulating conversations anyways). As far as recycling goes? I threw an empty toilet paper roll in my waste basket once. The next day I dug it out and recycled it: you'd think I'm a Catholic I'm wrought with such guilt.
So I came to the logical conclusion that I knew that I would arrive at anyways (but proceeded to go through the argument because it's a solid minute and a half to two minute walk from the seabus to bus that takes me up the street and I didn't have anyone to talk to about the headline that I saw in yesterday's Metro which read, "Come on, men: Give us a break!" or something equally ridiculous, which just sent me off on tangent due to the very patronizing nature of the title - written by a woman, unbelievably - while I mentally thought of rape, abuse, the emancipation of women, female genital mutilation and prostitution, before sneaking another glance to see that this article had something to do with George Clooney getting married and this whole article and the whole concept of the Metro [or daily papers at all to begin with, the flagrant environmental wastes that they are] all but had me clutching my chest by the time I stepped off the bus): live life to the fullest... in moderation.
I've got to get changed for my clinic. Why do I do it? Because I had a big lunch with spicy salmon rolls, gomae and rice and before that I ate both pieces of the peanut butter granola bar. I lived my lunch to its fullest. Now for the moderation bit.