By now, you've probably heard the world is going to end Saturday. (Here in Chickenland, I am reminded nearly every day.)
And while I don't believe the apocalypse is upon us, I can't stop thinking about it. If I am four days away from being crushed in a "global earthquake" (and yes, that is a direct quote), this means I will never get to eat ramen in Tokyo or run a sub-2 half marathon (in fact, I will apparently die a sad sinner's death just hours before my next PR attempt). I will never own a house or a Chanel purse. I will never finish watching "Lawrence of Arabia" (every time we try, Todd falls asleep) or taste the wine we've been aging (all those Cabs going to waste!).
And this makes me more determined to live, as much as I possibly can.
Also, I would really like to see the May 21st-ers in a showdown with the 2012-ers. Bets, anyone?
1 comment
I've been wondering what I would do if I actually thought this was my last week on earth. The weird thing is, I don't know! You're right; we should live as much life as we can, since it seems to be passing pretty quickly.
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