The List

I don't know if this is narcissistic or morbid, but I like to keep a running tally of who would miss me if I ate one too many bottles of Xanax.

I brought this up with some of my friends the other day, which shocked them, obviously. I tried to reason things, "Well if I know someone is my friend, then they'll miss me, right?" As if it was just a simple list of my friends.

What's strange to me is my list, family aside (they'd all feel somehow personally responsible), came out to about six people. The girlfriend, the college buddy, the room mates (they'd miss my rent, I like to joke), and the childhood friend who lives in Oregon. Although...when I think about it...I haven't talked to him for almost a month.

Five people.

Anyway, my friends who I told about my list all seemed to have about twenty unique people they could rattle off who would miss me.

I guess with a mind that's clouded enough to make a list like that, I really couldn't see everyone who cares.

"That's Akers. A.K.E.R.S. What? No, this is my first trip to the psychiatrist..."