I’M STARTING to fret about the end of the world.
It’s meant to happen this year, you know.
On 21 December 2012, we’re all going to meet our maker if that frightening film 2012 is to be believed … or the Mayan calendar.
I’m starting to panic just thinking about it. The Mayans were an astute bunch, you know.
Like, have you seen Apocalypto?
Granted, that depicts the decline of their civilisation, but still, you get the drift.
I mean, I would tend to side with the Mayans just because I harbour a residual fear of them. I’ll refer you back to Apocalypto.
Thus far, I am most certainly a survivor. We all are, given that we’ve managed to escape several predicted ends of the world.
This December date, though, has me quaking in my boots.
“Solar flares” announced my editor. “That’s going to cause the end of the world.”
I had broached the subject in the off ice just to see if anyone else was concerned. “I watched an hour-long documentary on the Mayans, but really, at the end of it, they couldn’t tell you what the calendar said because it had been eroded.”
“Really?” I asked, slightly petrified. “Did the Mayans predict solar flares were going to get us?”
“Oh no, I think that might have been the film 2012.”
Regardless, I think I’m right to be fearful. The end is surely nigh and I’ve done so little. I have just under a year to fulfil my life’s work. Naturally, I’ve decided to compile a list because one must be organised in the face of certain death.
There is no point faffing about when work needs to be done, and there is no way to get work done if you’ve not compiled a list. If the world is going to end, I’m at least going to be organised about it. I purchased a lovely little pink notepad in a large conglomerate and have inscribed ‘Things I must achieve before 21 December 2012’ on it.
This is a surefire way to success. What I plan on doing is making a list of things I’ve not done, and from there I will cut said list into another list of things I absolutely must do, thereby eradicating any unnecessary time wasting on things I’ve not done but society says I should do.
I mean, for example, let’s just kill the obvious straight away.
Sky diving, bungee jumping, hot air ballooning – no, no, I will not be doing any of the above. Ever. I mean, it’s just ridiculous. I want to achieve things before my life ends on 21 December 2012, and I don’t want to end my life before 21 December 2012.
I mean, really … jumping out of an airplane – which, I suspect, is already rather unstable because it is small, and everyone knows small airplanes spell disaster – just so that I can fall helplessly to the ground, with nothing more to save me than a piece of canvas, is utterly ridiculous.
The whole thing just beggars belief.
Also, bungee jumping. I’m sorry … but what?
Yes, yes sir. Please tie a long rope to my ankles and push me off the edge of this cliff .
Actually, no. Please don’t, because I want to live.
Did you not see that Australian girl recently? Her rope snapped. Yes, it snapped. Need I say more?
Hot air ballooning is another one.
No, no, I don’t want to jump into a wicker basket with a stranger and tanks full of what I presume to be explosive gas.
That wouldn’t make me feel safe and secure, you know. That would just make me vomit and pass out.
Granted, all of these things could have something to do with my deep-seated fear of heights, or they could just be things I don’t want to do because I might die.
Snowboarding – I wouldn’t mind doing that, I suppose, because I have a need for speed, but I’ve no interest in mountainous regions because they have spiky, icy cliff s, and that spells danger.
I would potentially enjoy skiing, although really, it’s not fantastic enough to make my “must do” list before the world comes to an end.
In short, I must sit down and construct a logical list of what can be achieved before next December’s fateful date – dinner with Brad and Ange will, of course, be on top.