Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Improper Poll: A Day in the Life

Friday after work I checked out the news and found out I only had one day to live. Where did this come from?  I thought we had until 2012.  So all of a sudden I had to think about how I would spend my last day on earth.

I thought about things like drinking and smoking and trips, but in the end, I spent my pretend last day on earth almost like any other weekend, and I think that’s just what I’d choose. 

Except…my son is now home from college.  His mess follows him home like Schultz’s Pigpen, a pile of wet-clothes clutter that grows until it engulfs our house and garage like kid-kudzu. Kidzu? Krudzu? There are paper plates of petrified pizza and fingerprints and smeary half-filled glasses all over the house.  He shoots Nerf darts at his sister when she’s forced to pass his room, so in addition to the random shrieking, there are things like little darts all over. 

So I think if it were really my last day and I had time to plan, I would have hired a maid service.  And I did buy chocolate—the creamiest, milkiest chocolate I could find.

But here is today, one more day, a miracle no matter how you look at it.   

How would you spend your last day on earth?


  1. I would have to opt for the drinking. Nothing special, maybe a six-pack of The Beast (light, of course). My children would be summoned to sit around and hear tales of their childhood, recounted in a teary, boozy manner. I'm sure that would be the #1 thing on their own lists to do. My husband would be exempt from the reminiscing rendezvous. I know he would rather spend time with his goats and chickens, perhaps hand-feeding portions of my lilacs and rosebushes to them.

    If the end does not materialize, I can jump back on the wagon for another 19 years, and wait 7 more years for my lilac stumps to bloom. The children, however, may never recover.

  2. Your description of your son cracked me up...the kid-kudzu remark is perfect! I have a 17-year-old daughter whose bedroom fits that description. :p Last day on Earth I'd spend it with family and nice glass of wine. And chocolate. Heavens to mergatroid, don't forget the chocolate!

  3. Kid-kudzu...petrified plates of pizza...Great phrases.

    Eat lots of chocolate and good bread with butter and drink wine. Watch some good movies and talk with the family. Laugh a lot, because who cares who sees my belly jiggle...the world's ending, anyway.

  4. Girl you are such a hoot. :) Sorry I've been unplugged for awhile now so when I heard of the last day concept the storm had already passed or I was passed depends on how one looks at it. :D
    Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow

  5. Your description of your kids sounds just like life at my house thirty years ago.

    If I knew it would be my last day on earth, I'd eat a cream puff, hug my hubby, the kids, grandkids and drive south as fast as I could, and hope to make it to the beach one last time.

  6. I'm not sure. I'll tell you when the time is near.


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