Health Optimisation and Precision Economics.
Presenting, Rosie O’h.
Rosie, Rosie O’h stared back at her in the grubby mirror. She wasn’t an unclean person but she didn’t invest in the proper materials or possess the inclination really to do the due diligence on an awkward surface, like a mirror. In any case, the reflection peered into her world, thin, not as in ‘skinny’ but like hollowed out, a whittled down version of herself (ready for some craftsman to use a more supple tool on, to add some defining detail, a maker’s mark or patent).
A thoughtless exhalation escaped her frame, measured breaths couldn’t accommodate the weight of her preoccupation. It had felt heavy coming out of someone that slim.
A grunt of acknowledgement from her other half (a relationship that had sustained itself three months to present). They’d only toyed with the idea of co-habitation a little while. They got on well and bills are crippling, it had to be a win. She’d given her future some thought and it’s easy enough to change personal pronouns from ‘Me’ and ‘I’ to ‘Us’, and to ‘We’.
‘Shall I just order?’ He reclined his head right back against the throw, thoughtfully tucked into the creases of an otherwise rough and decomposing sofa, he could feel the stuffing inching in and out of place beneath him as he sat, completely vulnerable to it, his jugular region tenderly exposed, extended yet at ease toward her back, and facing the other Rosie in the glass.
‘Sure’, Rosie reacted slowly, patting then gripping at her notably flat belly gently and repetitively, still somewhat staring into the inverted room. She eventually recoiled from her own gaze, turning to him properly, with a miniature ball point change onto her tip toe from the hall to the living area they’d made, to lean over the back of the same sofa- stowing a hand familiarly between his poised neck and the top of the sofa to corner off what might have been a harsh angle.
She’d grazed the trail of a now healed burn on his neck with the action, from a one-year stint on the other side of the planet, fruit picking. The sap had oozed from above as he interfered with the plants, hacking at whatever was in reach to amount to the quota. It was then left to rot against him in the sun, keenly acidic, until the last of the bounty was collected for that day and he’d got to the shower. Needless to say, it festered but the high temperatures were hard to distinguish from fever, he’d pointed out to Rosie, and it hadn’t bothered him much, just left him with the wish it was a more lucrative trip. Others had worse infections although he’d never caught up with them properly about it. The thought of them being carted from the main accommodation building, lingered on his brow sometimes.
He smiled back at her, ‘I fancy a Pizza but I’m easy’.
‘I need the calories I guess’ probing at her inners again, this time harder. He pulled up the relevant app and clicked through to order, taking her hand from her stomach and putting it playfully behind her back, as if she couldn’t reengage it herself to form the same habit. She radiated warmth on account of the contact, pleasant friction of skin on skin.
They tracked the Delivery rider, keeping his phone out with page loaded, so as not to miss him. The video breathed through the phone’s microphone, the advert, was becoming familiar now. The tone had been refined from what was originally a bit creaky and Jehova’s Witness-ish to something that packed a bit of punch, drew on a half-formed thought and completed it in a hue you couldn’t have painted yourself without some time and stamina. Words swung loosely around a concept that gave a tip of the tongue effect, words rang out something tuneful along the lines of,
Health Optimization and Precision Economics:
If you could contain and commit the most valuable, but equally that basest portion of yourself and all its impulses, to absolute shrinkage. The part that deludes itself with passing fancies, idealises others yet ultimately undermines itself on a daily basis in the modern rush to have it all, to provide digital ticks against some inventory lacking any concrete, sustainability; That part, secured instead for the time when you’ve achieved its gratification.
Clinically reduced, it can be, until you can afford to be monetarily present, without suffering the loss of any of your physical vitality. So, between guaranteed shifts (of higher purpose), duty streamlined by this medical process- emotionally. Welcome to the Health Optimisation and Precision Economics pathway.
Anxiety, depression, self-induced crises spiralled by
Drink, drugs, worse even debt, gambling and such, coffees, brunches, flights and exploration (distractions) overseas, the Japanese and Kiwis, avocados, family- before you are truly ready, making work for idle hands, a life time of struggling financially, for what? Appearances? Escaping,
The road to consistency and therefore, happiness- Scientifically.
All these drains on your resources avoided convenient and easily- safety, ready to spring in spring, stowed for safekeeping under the umbrella of a truly respectable company, a 9-5, a family, of course all leading to when, one fine morning, you clock out and make the commute back to a home, not rented, not mortgaged-
your very own. Stamp Duty and taxes all accounted for,
Immune from the sticky claws of expectation where it’s not due, beaks with social media presences, hope-less competitions for historic houses, chain smoking or vaping under the duress of unsustainable social niceties- Long neglected as defined Privileges
It is sweet and natural, that these are elusive to you at such a tender age, and will be forever if you continue your wreckless course, pretention and anarchy, exposing your moral vulnerablilty on whims, matcha and oatmilk Lattes, so readily in ‘down-time’?
Wouldn’t you too, make that two to a mere five-year plan, your reality? Compressing all your most valuable qualities for when they have the proper place and timing to flourish, comfortably, affluently. A measured, a holistic vision,
The reasonable kind of newspapers all call it: A Triumph! An economic advance unbridled by lagging infrastructure that allows every Worker to feel, real, true and authentic -benefit.
Routine Economics and PPE
There were conspiracy theories floating about that graduate interns were being drugged? Kept in some kind of human meat packaging, until work rolled round for them to earn a decent living. Rejigged for the 9AM with zero expenditure, debt- the green.
It played during new movie releases, even at those artsy cinemas that would ordinarily maintain a distance from any thing remotely, or at least explicitly, political. It was a collective feeling. Dawning on them painfully slow, inevitable and big, even within the confines of the small domestic bliss where bills kept dropping in.
