Sure, I went to bed last night seeing all those memes about it being December 21 in Australia and Asia already, blah, blah, blah, but we all know the Mayans were totally talking about the world ending in Central Time, which is the time zone I live in. Silly world. You need to get the time zone right. The Mayans are precise.
So, last night I kissed my kids goodnight and tucked them in. I climbed into bed and ignored the repeated phone calls from my mortgage company, American Express, Visa, Discover and Target begging me to pay the debt I'd run up in the last year. (I had to live large during our last year on this planet - you can't take it with you, might as well spend it.) I kissed the Hubs good bye and I finished the last good book I'd ever read.
Imagine my surprise when I awoke this morning to a bright morning (the light was from the sun, not asteroids like I had originally presumed) and birds were singing (not squawking by the millions outside my house as they dropped from the sky in death spirals) and the power was still on (I did continue to pay that bill this year, because those guys mean business!) and my kids were standing there demanding breakfast.
What happened? I wondered as I fed my children breakfast - mostly pumpkin pie and Oreos (don't judge, I thought if we survived the night we'd eat the neighbors) and started paying bills again. I thought the world was going to end.
There have been lots of crackpots over the years who have predicted the end of days, but this one was on the news and stuff. This was like Y2K. This one was supposed to be the real deal. I feel a bit duped.
Oh wait, I just found another news story that says it wasn't midnight the Mayans predicted, it was 11:11 am. I've got two hours! Just enough time to gorge myself on chocolate until the earthquakes start and swallow me whole.