Like 55% of people, you watch the news while cooking dinner. You whiten your teeth while you sleep.
Your household has more televisions than children.
You are one of 90% of Americans that own a Bible, only half of which can name a single Gospel.
You will still consume 20 tablespoons of added sugar today.
You are one of the 16% of people who have never been forgiven.
Tonight, you will spend 7 hours sleeping and 20 minutes wondering why you can't sleep.
Like 33% of people, you haven't really felt alive since the summer of 1997
If you're one of the 10% of people who think Joan of Arc was Noah's wife, you're also one of the 95% of people who think they're right.
You will live 13 years longer than the average celebrity and will have pictures of your accidentally exposed crotch in 100% fewer tabloids.
You are one of the 26% of people who will burn their children alive.
You will be married three times but still believe in one true love.
You are one of the 71% of Americans who dream with their eyes open, kiss with their mouths closed and make love in the dark.
You will not save any money today.
One-third of American workers see tiny skulls in the mirror.
You will spend 137.8 hours this year commuting to work and 135.2 hours getting back home.
You will only spend 17 minutes a day reading.
You are one of 98% of people who wish they could remember how it felt to be born.
At some point today you will say a prayer. You will not floss. You will take a shower for 11 minutes and not sing in it, drive an eight-year old car to work and spend 95% of the day indoors, in front of a computer, pretending to look busy.
You are one of the 30% of Americans who can not afford to be sick.
At some point today you will wish you could write a beautiful song about love. Like 62% of people, the feeling will pass.
At the age of 71 you will be retired, you will live off Social Security, take three kinds of pills, will no longer speak to your children and will, most mornings, meet your last remaining friend, Bill Stevenson, at McDonalds to drink bad coffee, eat greasy egg biscuits, stare wistfully out the windows at an ugly, tin-foiled sky and talk about things that happened 20 to 40 years ago in softly forgotten tones.
