If you’re reading this, it’s Friday, and I. have. no. idea. what’s. going. on. because we’re not supposed to be here. Not sure what this means because I envisioned nothing-ness. I figured we’d be gone-ers, and you know, I wouldn’t have to worry about paying any bills (winning!) and dealing with yet another transit fare hike (the fourth in five years, if you’re wondering — yep, only in New York, kids. Only in New York.).
Hmmmm…Okay…Um… *drums fingers* …Mm… What do we do now? Actually, I’m wondering, slightly paranoid if Armageddon is lurking around the corner ready to pounce on us! eek. *eyes dart from side to side*
Don’t know about you, but I’m not appreciating all this suspense. I usually don’t mind surprises, but this is the kind of surprise I’m not sure I’m ready for. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to open my eyes and have to deal with this crap. You know what? Now I’m pissed. Because I thought it would be quick and painless, and now, we’re watching the clock. I mean, was this thing to go down in Eastern Standard Time? Pacific? And whenever it’s supposed to be, are we talking 11:59:59 p.m.?
Alright, so when are we going to meet The End? Like at what time? *looks for (fiscal) cliff*
Now I’m going to have to go to work and finish e-mailing our d*mn corporate holiday card, which by the way, one of the execs commented was, “H-iiii-de-oussss” — complete with exaggerated facial expressions and dramatic whispering. (P.S. Guess who approached me to distribute our “hideous” e-cards to their mailing list? kmt.)
Between the two-faced executive, the ‘Fiscal Cliff’, the Rolling Stones’ 50th Anniversary, the fact that Ricky Martin’s run on Broadway as a lead in “Evita” is almost over, and last night’s warning to hunker down because severe weather of extremely high winds will be whipping through the tri-state area today, maybe The End is near?
*sighs and accepts fate of Mayan apocalypse (while checking Norwegian Cruise Line reservation on the “Epic” for next year)*