If you’re here to play hero saving my life, tough luck — because I have news for you:
I never die.
If the world is ending tonight because of global warming (It’s a thing. Look it up), I would still make it out alive, comfortably. I would be ordering pizza tomorrow and waiting for the pizza guy, wondering, “Where is my pizza? I’m famished. It’s my brunch time, bro.”
(Pizza and global warming. Andrew Tate and Greta Thunberg. See what I did there?)
If the world is ending tonight because of the zombie apocalypse (Please let this be a thing. I’m never looking it up, for my own sanity), many zombies would die, both figuratively and literally, to bring my pizza tomorrow for my brunch.
So what on Greta’s green earth is my deal?
“I will call Mom tomorrow.”
“Sorry, sis. Work has been hectic. I will call Mom this Saturday.”
“I totally forgot. I promise. I will call her on Sunday. In fact, I’m partying right now. I can’t hear you.”
Oh, the arrogance. The arrogance to assume you and your mom would be still alive on Sunday. The arrogance to take the most important things and people we love for granted.
