Well, crap, the end of the world is just days away and I haven't finished my Christmas shopping. I mean, why bother? If we're all dead, fruitcakes won't matter. Since the Mayans have been kind enough to give us some advance notice about the end of days, I've been thinking.
How does one prepare for the end of the world? I suppose I should start making amends. I need to look up little Markie Meyers and tell him I'm sorry I stole a comic book from him in the third grade. I could holler at the neighbor across the street, "hey, maybe you're not such a heinous bitch after all!" Nah. Scratch that. Seems to me I should top her list.
My daughter's somewhat of a calendar expert. She works at a calendar and games kiosk at the local mall. I asked her if she had any Mayan calendars. I wanted to see if they just disregard December 22nd through the 31st. Her response? "Whatever, Dad." (By the way, the two biggest selling calendars at my daughter's workplace? One Direction and Justin Bieber. Talk about portents of the end of the world!).
"Whatever." It's this cavalier attitude about the impending destruction of the world that's got me up in arms. I think we should all live the day like it's our last. I've been squeezing out so many extra "love yous" to my wife, daughter and mother, they think I'm a living Hallmark card.
And maybe I'm just procrastinating and don't want to finish Christmas shopping.