It’s 5:33 a.m., Friday, Dec. 12, 2012. And, I’m awake. Not because the world is destined to end in less than 20 minutes, but because this is my usual insomnia-induced, circadian rhythm hell.
All my peeps are tucked, asleep in bed, oblivious to the pending doom. I’m fighting a powerful urge to rouse them all, making them huddle together in the hallway, like I did the morning we were under a tornado warning and the windows had started to rattle.
I don’t expect the end of the world… but I am also that person, at age 50, who can convince herself a bogeyman still lives under my bed.
Mayan calendar doomsdayers aside, I don’t literally believe ( I think in this case, the word usage is correct) the world is going to end. I still have Christmas shopping to do, and the College Kid is finally going to take that Study Abroad trip she’s wanted for so long.
There are things to do and places to go, people to meet… coffee to make. I have ten minutes left to finish my bucket list for Gawd sake.
Hopefully, I’ll see you soon…