“The Nobel Prize is awarded to the person who has done the greatest benefit to humankind”. Well, I have. I’ve been taking birth control pills for over 15 years.

People claim that you cannot put a price on a human life. Yes, you can. Four to sixteen tons of carbon dioxide each year, per human. And spoiler alert: a high carbon footprint is bad. Bad for climate change, bad for contributing to urban air pollution, bad for leading to toxic acid rains, bad for worsening the melting of glaciers. Just your own breathing costs the planet a lot. And since I am not another breeding chicken, I am doing the planet a favor. In fact, I’m doing the rest of you a favor! One less person to steal your spot at the nursery, one less person to fight with you at the annual Walmart’s Black Friday, one less person who isn’t going to ask insurance money when it’s get sick, one less person to get into a road rage incident with, because no one wants to be the inspiration of the new season of Beef on Netflix. Facts. Also, I’ve seen Waterworld. I got seasick just by looking at the film poster. Nobody wants to live like that. Nobody wants to live with low-cost alpha males wearing damaged knitwear. You could just go to the gym for that. Just like nobody wants to live in the favelas of Elysium.

“We need to have kids, so that the bloodline lives on for generations”. Why, though? Have you turned on the TV recently? The biggest achievement you could have in your life is to cease life. Stop that never-ending Circle of Life that goes nowhere; The Lion King didn’t meant it literally. You want life? Buy a cactus. You only water it once a year, and he’s used to harsh environments. He won’t complain, suffer or ask for college money. He won’t catch an STD, have a burn-out, or go all Gypsy Rose Blanchard on you.

I deserve a Nobel Prize because I did do humankind a favor, I think I even might have saved lives. I spared someone from watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. I spared someone from hearing Celine Dion sing at the Olympic Games opening ceremony in Paris. I spared someone from having to choose between In-N-Out burgers and Taco Tuesday. And if that isn’t doing humankind a favor, then I don’t know what is.

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Zoé Mahfouz is a writer with golden retriever energy who prepares for the hall of fame by giving fake TED Talks in her bedroom to her stuffed animals. She’s obsessed by her mother’s homemade ratatouille since she still hasn’t found Chef Remy’s ratatouille restaurant from the Ratatouille movie.