How To Live Each Day Like It Was Your Last


Today’s vexing question comes from Amos Lee Falk of Johnstown, PA.  Amos asks, “If you had only one day to live, how would you live it?”

Thank you for writing in, Amos, and I must tell you that your particular question posed a bit of a quandary for me because as soon as I saw it, I thought to myself, if today is my last day,  do I really want to waste my time getting back to you?  No offense, I’ve no doubt you’re a decent fellow and it’s with that thought in mind that I will provide a cheerful but expedient reply to your question — for one never knows, does one?  ha ha.  I’m assuming by your use of the word “If” that this is a rhetorical question, right.  I didn’t cut you off in traffic or anything, did I?

My last day.  Let’s see.  For starters, I’m  not making the bed.  Probably won’t shower either.  Breakfast is another matter, however,  since it is the most important meal of the day.  Probably start out with a couple of eggs, wheat toast, half a grapefruit, a piping hot cup of Sanka and a glass of orange juice.  Then I’d throw all the dirty breakfast dishes over the fence into my neighbor, Pete Rincavitche’s yard.  He has a Beagle named Dolly that howls like a banshee from 10 pm to 4 in the morning and even though I haven’t had a solid eight hours sleep in close to 15 years,  I never said a word about it, even at block parties when I was lit up pretty good.  Yeah, I think I’d bequeath my dirty dishes to Pete, I’d get a kick out of seeing his face.

Next thing I’d do, I’d grab every single dress shirt I own with the worn out shiny cuffs and head over to Double Happiness Cleaners and drop them right in front of Mrs. Wu!   No, hold on.  I can’t spend my entire last day on Earth exacting revenge on everyone who’s ever done me wrong.  What was I thinking?  I’d need a month, possibly two and even then,  that’d just be the tip of the iceberg.  I’d need to make a list and a plan.  Airline tickets. Some of that liquorice gum that makes your mouth turn black.  Amos, I got to wrap this up.

© 2013 The Monkey Bellhop and John Hartnett

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *