I’m feeling a little conflicted this morning … the world is going to end on May 21, 2011, the day AFTER my colonoscopy. Dare I reschedule?
Harold Camping, self-proclaimed know-it-all of Family Radio claims this Saturday will mark the end of the world. I’ve often considered what I’d do if I knew when my time was up. If say, I had a week, or a month to live, what vices would I indulge in? Would I finally just consider gravy a beverage? Would I return to being a smoker? Chain puffing my favorite Lucky Strikes, except this time down/upgrading to the non-filtered? Would eating bacon three times a day be on my shopping list? Probably.
I’d not count calories, nor grey hairs. I would likely do a lot of things that would otherwise be considered unhealthy and would certainly do away with anything deemed ancillary in light of the end being near – colonoscopies would easily be in my top 5 list of things I would avoid. Now, for reasons I don’t have to go into details about, the light at the end of the tunnel has taken on a completely new context for me.
There will be no bull riding, no sky diving, nor any massive pork consumption. I have run out of time, and ironically have learned too late to plan my exit. The end is here and my final day has been pre-ordained. In the morning, 24 hours from now, I will be having the most unnecessary procedure of my life, only to limp home and recuperate just in time for the world to explode into a ball of hell fire.
Sure, I could roll the bones, blow off my date with the snake and mock my eternal fate, but, my fundamentalist upbringing plagues me with latent feelings of guilt. Being hammered by scripture throughout my pubescence, I still feel the need to make up for past sins. Maybe God will consider this the ultimate act of contrition. While the rest of the world may roll in lasciviousness, mocking the heavens, I will be lain prostrate at eternity’s door. I will have fasted, I will have had the deepest reaches of my soul searched (for me) and will be ready to meet my creator in nothing more than an ass-less gown of sack-cloth.
How will you spend your last Friday before forever? Actually, don’t bother telling me. I’m trying to avoid temptations right now.