Anyone seeing me over the last one week would have been forgiven if they conclusively decided that I was on some sort of tranquilizers.
And you wouldn’t be far from the truth. For I was.
The worst sort. Propagated to each one of us through friends on Facebook and various social media. Oh yes.
My foolishness began when I received a forwarded message “Treat people as if this were your last day on earth. How would you like them to remember you? Have you told them you love them?”
In retrospect, I think I did take the message too literally.
Which started me on the course that I was rolling on, telling everyone that I loved them.
Posting niceties on Facebook so that if indeed this were my last day, you would remember me by a final piece of inspiration.
Ok, scratch that. I couldn’t post anything. I was gripped and handicapped by the mania of “last day on earth”.
Tiffany broke a glass, my first instinct was to yell a profanity. Then gripped by the last day on earth, I hugged her and said “Oh I love you so much”. Sensing my newfound softness, she sinned even more, and each time I loved her more.
Everyone around me of course picked up on the vibe I was giving off. They could see the angelic look on my face.
Suffice it to say, I got really soft living my “last day on earth”.
The final straw, let’s call it the straw that didn’t break the camel’s back but woke the camel up, rather rudely I might add, happened when there was someone knocking on our door, Tiffany was in the living room, I was in the bedroom and she was yelling at me to come get the door.
I snapped. Snapped at her, snapped back into my senses and snapped out of my last day on earth.
Well…I am back…
Don’t be forwarding me those crippling messages…
Tomorrow, I go for retail therapy to heal. Dan had better get his credit card out. Hey, who knows, it could be my last day. I want to go peacefully. And you know how us women are peaceful after a little retail therapy, right?
It could just be my last day…
Leave a Reply