Random Musing: Death

What if a doctor told you that you had some strange disease or maybe cancer and that you were going to die in say, three months, what would you do?

This came to me, like so many questions, as I lay in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Now, I'm poor... I work in retail and live week to week. I can't quit my job and go on a three month bender. I'm pretty sure I'd want to but that's just not an option. Besides, I have a job to do. They hired me, I accept their paychecks, I'll be damned if I won't do my job to the best of my ability.

So what would I do? I'd do the professional fucking thing. Nothing. I'd go to work like usual, I'd come home and read too much, I'd play video games until like 3 am with people who annoy the shit out of me. Why would I do anything else? I think the only thing that would change is my smoking... basically I'd do it a lot more. Right about now I only smoke about one cigarette a day, just enough to give me a smoker's cough. If I only had three months to live and didn't have to worry about cancer? I'd kick my smoking into third gear, pack a day at least... so long as I can afford it.

That's the other part, my savings account? Fuck that. I have no future, I'm not going to retire. I'll spend money like it's going out of style, eat off the dollar menu so I can afford expensive scotch and new release movies, cds, games, what the fuck ever. If it's new and shiny and I've only got three months to enjoy new and shiny things then I want 'em!

But I'd still be professional at work. I'd still be cheerful to every customer, positive and happy to help. I wouldn't slack off or even tell my bosses or co-workers I was dying. Why should they care? I'd wait until the proverbial midnight hour before I told anyone and then I'd have as big a party as I could manage. Or at least a night out at some place with good food followed by many many hours of sitting around talking while I at least smoke. The only day I'd break from my typical professionalism is my last day, because it'd be wrong to not turn in my two week's notice. You can't just drop off the radar and stop showing up, that's not fair to your co-workers.

My last day? I'd want to have some fun. Come in dressed as normal, maybe with a tie because I want to go out in style. Then... put on my headset in one ear and my zune in the other. Loud. What if a customer has a question you ask, I hope they can out-yell Clawfinger. I think I'd hang out at the info desk (if you've been to Borders you know what I mean) with an ashtray in one hand and a cigarette in the other until security or (more likely) the police made me leave. Just relax, smoke, drink from a flask bought just for the occasion. I think it'd be a pretty fun day until the fines and the being escorted out part.

'cause you know I wouldn't die that day. I'd die in like half a week after the consequences of my last day at least started to catch up with me.