When I heard that the world was going to end in a week’s time, I immediately tried to bargain for more time, cuz I needed it to travel to see family and friends all over the globe. Failing that, I started thinking about all the things that I no longer needed to be concerned about: going to work, how much I weighed, old age, health care, social security, global warming, getting a different job, or even how to get rid of weeds. All the possessions that needed sorting, discarding or keeping—no worries: they’re all gonna burn. Chill out, and think about what’s really top priority.
I started making plans. Plan A: Invite friends and family for a week long party, asking them to bring camping equipment, food and drink to share + battery chargers. I was following the motto: Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we’ll die.
Then it occurred to me that freeways—and even back roads—would be clogged with impossible impassable traffic. What would normally be an hour’s drive would last for the whole day and night, with no guarantee that petrol could be obtained along the way. Then there is that aspect of humanity: people would be panicky and would lose their sense of common decency—so not many would be able to make it to my party.
OK then. Plan B: Travel a relatively short distance to be with family. But even this idea presented problems. If I ventured out on the road, I could have even the shortest of trips terminated by my car getting hijacked or spend the rest of my life stuck on the San Mateo Bridge. I remembered all those end of the world scenarios—where the survivors all turn on each other, instead of focusing on peace, brotherhood, or even teamwork.
Now I’m left with Plan C: Consider the most likely scene where I’ll spend my last 7 days—alone and at home, with a variety of contemplative activities: Put the tent up in the backyard and pretend to be on holiday, followed by writing, listening to music while dancing with a pillow or putting my hula hoop to use, thinking, reading, painting, and if I can somehow keep my phone charged, talking with the people I love.
[Img.Src: Skeleton Party 1893]