A Pain in the Neck

A few of my friends and I often posit that this world is clearly a simulation, and we’re some sort of experiment.

My personal theory is that we’re in a jar in some alien teen’s bedroom and his little brother has stolen his science fair experiment and things have gone off the rails. I think the shift happened when the Chicago Cubs won the World Series over the Cleveland Indians. (What sort of dastardly deal did they make to win?)

One of my other friends thinks that there are a series of simulations, and we’re saved in the cloud and entered in various worlds.

Sometimes, I think the simulation is so obvious that the people who are running the situation are just messing with us. How do you explain Vanilla Ice on a quarantined plane from Dubai? It’s like when something ridiculous happens and you realize you’re in a dream. Sean Spicer on Dancing with the Stars? The smoking cockroach?

Maybe we know too much, we worry, while (mostly) joking about our simulation theories.

The other day, one of my friends I went to high school with had a very detailed dream that he was guiding me through the end of my life, but that he woke up in his dream to learned I had died. I spent the day kind of worried I had died and didn’t realize it, like Cary Grant and Constance Bennett in the beginning of Topper.

Then one of my friends got stuck in an elevator, on a high floor, for 10 minutes. “I’m not sure I made it,” she texted.

“We probably both died in some other simulations,” I noted. We went to a seance for fun early last week and the spirits had messages for everyone but us probably because they sensed we were already crossing over into their realm.

Following my crazy theory, I mentioned that maybe you die in another simulation when you have that feeling you’re falling when you’re about to go to sleep. “That’s just you rebooting,” replied my boyfriend.

Sometimes I find myself thinking about my crazy theories for a little too long. A few weeks ago, my hemoglobin was low. I was pale and tired and needed blood. I was always cold.  Am I turning into a vampire? I wondered. Being undead would be better than being just plain dead.

I wondered about my possible vampirism on social media after I slept in the bathtub with my black cat, Lux, after a night of not feeling well. “Depends… was the cat in the tub too?” asked one friend. “This is a very important part of the spell.”

Often we wonder how to get in a better simulation. I need to find one where I don’t have cancer.

Sometimes I find myself planning for the next life. “If I get rebooted into a new simulation, I’ll find you,” I tell my boyfriend. “I’ll find you before I get so sick this time, so you have time to get tired of me.”

I have to remember to avoid some people and situations. I’ll get my neuroendocrine tumor spot checked out earlier. Will Ziggy my cat still be a cat? I have a lot of questions, then I remember that I’m not actually in an episode of Black Mirror.

I have this life as far as I know. Yet I still hope I can get a better reboot situation.