Living the next 11 days how the Mayans would want me to….

Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to make her way to the internet again.

What? Don’t give me a hard time! I’ve had writer’s block. Plus, Netflix created it’s very own category for me entitled “Because you watched Christmas Town…” which forced me to watch more Christmas movies, which in turn created more holiday themed categories. Basically, what I’m saying is that I’ve been knee-deep in mushy holiday cheer… which- oddly, I’m not ashamed of at all.

While we’re on the subject mush, I must make mention that today marks the 365th day that my boyfriend has put up with me. And I have to say, it has been hands-down the happiest year of my life, recent depression excluded. I love that after a year, I can proudly say that I’m still extremely sexually attracted to my best friend. I love that he’s made it possible for me to roll my eyes at these cheesy movies that I’m addicted to, because I know that what we have is better than that. I love that I’ve found someone whom I can shamelessly tell all my secrets to, and who makes me laugh more than most episodes of 30 Rock. And since you’re probably the only reader I have left at this point, I LOVE YOU and I am so happy to have you in my life.

OK moving on. Sorry for that, but it’s my blog and I can be mushy if I want to.

But not everything has been hearts and butterflies this week. In fact, last night as I was desperately attempting to untangle a pair of tights from all the rest of my clothes in the washer, it dawned on me that there is a very very slim chance that the end of the world could be a mere 11 days away. And though it is a minuscule possibility, it’s still a possibility. And since my years of therapy have taught me that I catastrophize every situation, I’ve decided to take this as an opportunity to live as if the world will actually end in 11 days. After all, a slim possibility is still a possibility… and I want to be prepared.

So here is my game-plan for the next 11 days, that I will be living by very loosely.

* Wear makeup. The Mayans could be wrong about the exact day of the end of the world, and I want to be prepared. It has always been important to me to die looking my best. This means I must wear at least eye-liner at all times from now until the 21st.

*Avoid eating pizza. This is not for any attempt at losing weight. I mean, at this point, I don’t really care. I should be able to eat whatever I want to if the world is going to end anyway. But I don’t want to spend the majority of our last days on earth in the restroom.

*Finish Stephen King’s “The Dome” which I have now started 5 times and haven’t finished because it’s 9 million pages long. Also, I found the first three chapters mildly apocalyptic, and if there is a chance I could survive whatever is possibly coming for us, I’ll need as many tips as possible.

*Won’t let hypochondria get me down. This is the only time in my life when the possibility of having a gallbladder on the verge of exploding, or a tumor growing inside of my eyeball really isn’t that big of a deal. I mean, the likely hood of one of my ailments actually killing me before the big day is very slim…. so I’ve decided to ignore the sharp pain on the right side of my back, because there is a chance (albeit, very slim) that it won’t matter anyway.

*Try my best not to be lazy for the next 16 days. I’m not talking about getting out and running or anything… but I’m going to try my damnedest not to waste my afternoon’s off taking naps.

*Enjoy the simple things in life. To me, this means drinking a lot of  cheap wine and watching an entire season of Hart of Dixie in one sitting.


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  • Jean Nixon

    I love you, too.