[The Taco Bell harbinger of death.]
Thanks to Blogger's handy auto-post option and my slow Tuesday, I cranked out a post for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and set each to auto-post on a respective day.* The point was, no matter how crazybusy I was and how many meetings I found myself in (I have five, count 'em: five standing meetings on Wednesday), I'd know that some small gift from me was headed your way, dear Internets.
Then I thought, what if I die tonight? Won't it be weird to have posts seemingly from the other side? How creepy is that? Okay, it's not as creepy as having a Taco Bell delivery show up at your door from someone who's dead but still...** I dunno...
Then I thought: well, most of you won't know I'm dead.
That wasn't the cheery thought you might think it ought to be.
I left the auto-posts in place and told myself to get over myself.
But occasionally I think about things like this. Really stupid things.*** Like, what if my car decides to switch stations on me just at the point of death and the police come and track it back **** and they announce to my loved ones that I was listening to Rush Limbaugh or Billy Ray Cyrus at the moment I left this mortal coil when that was the car's choice, damn it! It's an electrical problem! But Rush or Billy Ray? That's not good. That's not how I want to be remembered, if I'm remembered at all. Promise me, when the AP wire gets listed, you'll skip the part about the radio station I was listening to. PROMISE ME!
Well, I didn't die before the Wednesday post went out. That's something.
Now I'm thinking: wouldn't it be weird if I died right after I sent out this post on how weird it would be if I died?
* This post was not one of them. This is an extra special post just 'cause. Remember I delivered this extra post when I am a husk of failed creativity. Or something.
** Is it possible to get a Taco Bell delivery? Maybe that doesn't even make sense. You see how distraught I am.
*** As opposed to my usual brilliant analysis on important topics like String Cheese.
**** Because the police have nothing better to do than ponder what radio show I was listening to when I died.