A couple of nights ago, we watched the 2012 movie Seeking a Friend for the End of the World. The premise: an asteroid is hurtling towards Earth and will wipe out everyone in 3 weeks.
What would you do? Here’s my exit strategy.
Liquidate savings, leaving just a little in case the forecast is, you know, wrong.
Fly (first class of course) to a remote tropical island with a 5-star resort. Pack tons of books, many bottles of limited edition Islay whiskey, and sunscreen. (My end-of-life scenario doesn’t include suffering from painful sunburn.)
Check into our suite, having reserved all the rooms on the floor so as not to endure fighting couples or screaming children.
- Walk on the beach. No sense meeting my Maker with flabby thighs.
- Have a 3-hour massage, with one hour spent on neck and shoulders.
- Drink steadily but only to maintain pleasant buzz, not hangover.
- Have dessert at lunch and dinner. Who’s judging?
- Have sex. OK, maybe not EVERY day.
Binge-watch all 19 seasons of Midsomer Murders. Mysteries are soothing because bad guys always get caught. Unlike life.
Be friendly but don’t waste a minute with anyone who is boring or mean.
Consume plenty of fresh papaya, mango and strawberries. End-of-days plan should not include constipation.
See glorious sunsets.
Gorge on cheese and chocolate. Cholesterol be damned.
Snuggle up with my sweetie every night. Drift off remembering every nice thing that’s ever happened to me.
There are worse ways to go.