Next Time Mayan Your Own Business

It’s December 21, 2012 and I’m sitting at my desk at work.  It’s 8:04.  Damn Mayans.

I didn’t set my alarm this morning but my dopey dogs woke me around 5:00 am.  I heard the intense wind and rain.  It was all very promising.  The guaranteed time for my earthly departure was promised to be 6:11.  I wasn’t going to get up but my dogs wanted to eat.  I tried to explain that they didn’t want to go to the afterlife bloated, but they didn’t care.

I woke my husband at 6:00 and told him he had 11 minutes left.  He asked me if I wanted coffee; I told him no.  Who wants to be spinning towards the netherworld with a full head of steam? 

The appointed time came and went.  I blinked at 6:11 but I was still here.  Nobody keeps their word anymore. 

Do you know that people actually prepared for this?  I heard that some folks were building strong houses, quite nice in fact, with enough food to last them a good long time.  They were prepared.

Amateurs.

You want prepared?  I didn’t clean my shower or shave my legs.  

Damn Mayans.

Now, not only do I have to pick up take out tonite for dinner, since the only food I have in my house is the brown rice I was leaving for the cockroaches, but I imagine I will have quite the wait at motor vehicles.

What do you want to bet somebody institutes a class-action lawsuit due to extreme credit card debt?

Damn Mayans.