I’m trying to work up the motivation to put on a coat and start shoveling the driveway, but part of me, the part the coffee hasn’t reached yet, is saying, Why bother? This is my last post ever before all of time, space and dimension winks out of existence. You know. End of the Mayan calendar. If there’s one thing those Mayans were known for, it’s their absolutely air-tight knowledge of time, space and dimension. So I think I’ll pour myself another cup of coffee and write some more of this drivel.

By the way, if you happen to know what time tomorrow the universe will cease to be, would you please shoot me an e-mail with that info? Sooner would be better than later. Did the Mayan calendar schedule a time for the end of existence, or just a date? Will it end at the very beginning of the day, 12:00:01 am, or will it end just before midnight on the 21st? Or will it end at noon, giving us all time at least for a few cups of coffee and some brunch? That only seems civilized, but then we’re talking about the end of civilization.

I’d also like to know if all of existence will end suddenly – one moment it is, the next moment it’s not – or if everyone who is awake at the beginning of the day will experience a fully realized existence but gradually become aware that their existence is slowly fading away, like a car’s headlights growing dimmer and dimmer on a dying battery, until finally at the end of the day they are nearly transparent and then, whoopsie! Gone. If it’s option B, you might want to set your alarm clocks early so you don’t wake up half-faded and start to panic before you remember what’s going on.

Well, that driveway’s not going to shovel itself. Sad that I have to start my last day of existence at manual labor and spend most of it shuffling papers at the office.

Post Script: It’s the heavy, wet kind of snow, my favorite. Gah.