Better living through not caring

Among the various horrible things people have cared to accuse me of, such as stupidity, psychosis, and pyromania, I am surprised that no one has ever accused me of caring too much. Yes, it is true; I shamefully admit that I do, in fact, care too much. It is a horrible, crippling debilitation that prevents me from living a normal life, much more so than stupidity, psychosis, or pyromania. The last one is actually rather fun, but I digress. Anyway, this terrible condition is actually being promoted by subversive sects of “humanitarians” to maliciously urge you to care while they rob you of your wonderful material happiness. But as the bastion of morality and ethics you know me to be, I will counter their arguments and point out just how destructive caring can be to your life.

Just think of all the time and money you could save if you didn’t care. Caring about your appearance alone severely reduces your free time and carries a high monetary cost. I mean, I could have potentially gained about five minutes each morning if I don’t bother with showering and oral hygiene. That doesn’t sound like much, until you realize that in a year, that’s almost 30 hours of time lost! That’s a pretty big waste, but nothing compared to how much money I could save by buying my clothing at Walmart instead of getting Armami suits from Fred on the I-77 onramp. There’s lots of other things as well. If I didn’t care about my grades, I could be having fun partying it up in that crazy college town of Terre Haute, rather than in my room trying to decipher why my advisor cares so much about my design project’s negligible one percent casualty rate. If I didn’t care about the other people on the roads and sidewalks, I could make much better time by just running over the slow people in my SUV, rather than just bumping them off the road. Speaking of my SUV, if I didn’t care about the environment so much, I would have upgraded it with a shiny coat of lead red #2 and instead of the incredibly efficient three MPG engine I have now, I could have gone with the much more manly 24 cylinder, half of whose cylinders do nothing but make noise and convert sunshine into plutonium. I could go on, but you know what? I don’t think I care to finish this article.