The Day Before

I imagine this as a test.

“If you had only 36 hours left in the lifestyle you currently know, what would you do?”

It’s in me to have pretty melodramatic reactions to shit. It’s a useful trait in a writer, after all, and a hella convenient one for a project manager in a dysfunctional organization. Seriously, when I was doing project management in one particular company, having various “OMG DOOM INCOMING EVERYTHING IS GOING TO SHIT WHAT THE HELL DO WE DO” reactions saved my cookies more than once, because off I went, finding the best possible ways with the resources we had to respond in case the worst DID happen.

Which it did. More often than I like to remember.

But that org is a long time past and I’m no longer a project manager. Now my doom and gloom thoughts don’t have good redirection… and this is one of the doomiest election cycles I’ve had a chance to witness. So here I am, looking out the window at the charcoal-purple evening sky and wondering. If this was the last time I got to have this life as it is, what would I do?

Um. *heartflutter*

     Caveat: I can’t really visualize an arc-shattering event in my country.
     But I have family who lived through bombings & destruction in WW2.
     I see what is happening in Syria. I know it can happen anywhere.
     I owe it to myself to know.

Well, listening to the 2 early Hamilton Mixtape releases is a good start. I’ll luxuriate in Kelly Clarkson kicking ass on “It’s Quiet Uptown.”

I’ll listen to a selection of music I love. I’ll cry, like I do, at a lot of it.

Sweetie is at work. He’ll come home and I’ll say “YAY” loudly, like I often do, and run to him, like I sometimes do, and get kisses and skinses* before he can even drop his bag, like I often do.

We’ll walk the pup. Delight in the park. Come back and snuggle with animals and watch the Westworld episode we missed last night. Maybe watch some CW shows.

Then I’ll sleep. Hope to sleep well, but aware I’ll probably wake, often, worrying.

…I couldn’t even get past that. I don’t think I’d want to get out of bed the next day. The likelihood would be that all the roos would be with us. And I can’t imagine spending a better last-few-hours than that – safe, warm, supported, with the sweeties I love all around me.

It took a while for me to realize it.

I am exactly where I would choose to be. EXACTLY.

And that gives me more hope that I expected.

Published by killerpuppytails

Really Quite Deadly.

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