At 75 I got curious about my projected life span. How long would I live, actually?

I was subconsciously expecting to live to about 84. That was my imaginary expiry date. (What’s yours?) On the other hand, statistics predicted that the average New Zealand woman of my age would live to about 90. But who’s average? Not you, not me. So I researched my personal life expectancy on four different websites, and got an entirely different number. When I got the prognosis of my personal life expectancy, I was enraged. But why? Why did those bonus years seem such a terrible, awful, dreadful, horrible thing? What did I expect?

Other people go through this experience. Denial works for some, but others start taking those bonus years seriously. For me, this information changed my attitude towards the remaining quarter of my life.

One way to face your bonus years of life expectancy: an adult tantrum