No, I don’t want to

I use this phrase a lot these days. No, I don’t want to contribute. No I don’t want to bring something to the table for discussion. No, I don’t have anything to say on this topic.
Case in point, a friend wrote to let me know she’s started a blog on women’s health issues and she hopes I’ll read it and comment.
No, I don’t want to. I have nothing to say. Not interested.
For years and years I was obsessed with women’s health issues. I dutifully followed all the hints for staying healthy, for looking you, for keeping fit. A new workout routine? I took up aerobics and racquetball and yoga. New vitamins? I swallowed Vitamin E and fish oil and flax seed oil and B-12 and magnesium. Prevention? I made the yearly mammogram, had my cholesterol checked and did the annual pap test, osteoporosis screenings and any thing else I was told would prevent the ravages of old age.
Guess what. None of this makes any difference. I still got gray hairs and wrinkles. Lost my hearing, my eyesight, my breast. My bones are thinning, my arteries clogged. Now in the name of science and medicine, new studies are out—and I don’t care.

I’m putting cream in my coffee and taking a multi-vitamin. I’ll count on luck and good genes to see me through the next 30 years. Or maybe not.