They say that within a century, the arctic permafrost could melt, releasing methane into the atmosphere and starting a deadly chain reaction. I’m glad I’ll be dead before that happens. But wait, won’t that be even worse—to already be dead?

Should I have more in my refrigerator than two bottles of water, five bottles of beer, and one bottle of wine?

Will my framed Rorschach print made by Tegan and Sara fall off the wall above my head and kill me—or, worse, cause brain damage or blind me or maim my face or something? Is that possible for a framed picture to do when falling from a height of three feet above your head?

Do I have too much crap? I know, I live in a studio apartment so by definition I have a lot less crap than a lot of other people—but still, there’s a lot of stuff here I never use. Should I get rid of it? Does it matter?

How old will my niece and nephews be before they start to think, hang on, Aunt Julia has a house and Uncle Joe has a big apartment in a suburban building with a party room and an indoor water element, but Uncle Jay seems to live in kind of a hotel or something. Isn’t he the oldest? What’s up with that?

When I invite my best friend from grade school, who I never see any more, to my Facebook events, does he think, cool, Jay’s inviting me to stuff or, that prick! He never calls me, and just invites me to all his crap!

Is it weird that I’ve listened to the Lana Del Rey album 25 times?

Should I be spending more time thinking about how cool it is that I have a check from Artforum on my desk, or is it chill that I’m kind of taking it for granted?

Is the fact that I never get to the bottom of my stack of magazines to read because I subscribe to too many magazines, or because I don’t spend enough time reading magazines?

Should I get a haircut?

– Jay Gabler