Saturday, June 03, 2006

In a State of Pre-Everything

The government wants all of us (of child-bearing age) to believe and behave as though we were pre-pregnant, thus to refrain from smoking, drinking, and regularly take folic acid.

Uhhh, what now? That’s like asking all vehicle operators to consider themselves “pre-accident” thus refrain from driving, boating, flying, and take public transportation at every opportunity. Except for the drivers of public transportation, who should all stay home.

The new assault on women continues. Since our only worth is as incubators, we must always consider ourselves as pre-incubation, natch. Sigourney Weaver unavailable for comment. *shudder*

Just what, I say, what the bloody hell is a-goin’ on? I firmly believe that even on the admittedly rare moments that I slept with a man, I was most certainly not “pre-pregnancy”. Unless “praying to every god I could think of that I wasn’t fertile” equals “joyously fertile and welcoming”.

I think not.

I have never wanted to give birth, and even though that coming inevitability nonetheless evokes nostalgia, I’m not willing to wrap myself in cotton wool (pun intended, Tampax Inc.) in order to escape my fate.

Shall we all consider ourselves, pre-fracture and never engage in sports, or even stand upright? You could fall down, you know!

I thought I was done with this rant, and then this headline pops up: “1/3 of U.S. adults Pre-Diabetic” Oh for Pete’s farking sake, people! If you’re really worried about becoming a diabetic, the first thing you should do is choose your parents more wisely. Zygotes should actively avoid implanting in the uteri of diabetic women, immediately.

Also, get off your fat ass and exercise, and stop drinking soda. That’ll go a long way, right there. I’m not minimizing diabetes. It’s a terrible disease. However, you are much less likely to develop it if lifestyle changes take place first.

Medicine is one place where a stitch in time really does save nine. If you’re worried about it, ask your doc for a fasting glucose measurement. If it’s questionable, start thinking that wheat germ is your friend, and learn to eat broccoli. After a while, you can even learn to feign enjoying eating broccoli.

I’m off to make some organic tacos. Are they organic because I’m a bourgeois asshole? No, it’s because the grocery store nearest my work is an organic one. Are they still greasy and good? Yes, because I can now justify fat-filled avocado lusciousness because it’s healthy, it’s local, and it’s organic!

I’m tired of living in fear all the time. I’m tired of feeling like my body is just going to manifest new problems at random -- which it will, but I don’t want to think about it so much. I’m tired of watching people blame their ills on everything else. You know what? For me, it’s not “the culture.” It’s not anything other than “I like food,” and tasty fattening food is cheapest.

However to escape all the rest of the anxiety, I have decided to just consider myself pre-imminent death. I know, it’s preternaturally precocious to predict my predestined predicament, but I prefer it that way.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Check out the ads that appear in conjunction with this entry. Ah, the irony.

10:21 PM  

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