Thursday, February 07, 2008

The End Is Near

I haven't eaten solid foods because I can't swallow. I was laying under three blankets wearing a sweater over two shirts and my flannel jammies with sweat socks and still my body convulsed as if going through crack withdrawal.

My head is all "foggy" and my body hurts from the tip of my toes to that handful of grey hairs on my head. I just looked in the mirror before (BIG MISTAKE!!) and I look whiter than the whitest white person.

And it just took me thirty minutes to type this because I'm using one weak finger to do it.

I went to that stupid muthaf*cking Bengali "doctor" last night, and all he had to say- before snatching my $20 co-pay from my hand and NOT doing a throat culture- was, "gargle with warm salt water, drink plenty of fluids, take Tylenol for the fever and pain, and if it's not better in three days take this antibiotic."

Really, genius? That's your expert medical advice? Stuff I was ALREADY DOING??


* mad that I didn't get that Jewish doctor yet*
I, Raquel Penzo, being of sound mind(?) and body, do hereby make, publish and declare this to be my last will and testament.

To my sister, Mari, I leave all my shoes, even if they are 1/2 a size too big, as I know she wil find good homes for them.

To Jack, I leave all my manuscripts. Finish them as you see fit, and try to get at least ONE story published in The New Yorker.

To Lani, I leave my copy of SCUM Manifesto; every time you read it think of me!

To L, I leave my two Coach bags; I know it's all she wanted.

To my eldest daughter, K, I leave all my other handbags, as well as my Latin American literature and Joshua (my computer).

To my youngest daughter, N, I leave both my manual and electric typewriters, my Calphalon cookware, my scarves, my "Cheers" playing cards and Roscoe (my new cell phone).

Both children are to equally share possession of my extensive DVD and CD collections.

To my mother I leave my beloved couch, Sofia; may you enjoy her soft comfiness for years to come.

To my cousin Minnie I leave Grandma's cast iron pots and my antique desk; take good care of her...she's at least 100 years old and one of her legs is wobbly.

The rest of my estate should be donated to the Salvation Army, and any monies I leave behind should be divided up as such: 80% used to set up trusts for K & N's college educations, and 20% donated equally among the following: Diabetes Research, Brooklyn Tech, Alfred University and Fairleigh Dickinson University.

But, uh, don't worry about a funeral...I've donated my body to science. Just pop open the bottle of Jack Daniel's hidden away in my closet and celebrate the fact that I don't have to go to work tomorrow.

Goodbye, cruel world!!!