According to the Mayans, we've got about five days to go. If this were really so, what would I do? I quickly realized it's much easier to poke fun at this cheesy superstition than it is to answer that tough question. What would you do?
I'd surround myself with people I love and who love me. I'd put my I-tunes library on shuffle and let it play the whole time. I'd go through my library and read as many underlined passages as I could. I'd eat all my favorite foods and look at lots of pictures. I'd try not to sleep at all. Those are the easy parts; I'm guessing many people would share at least my first piece.
For me, the next part is uncomfortable but inescapable. Who have I hurt deeply? And, if I don't use these last days to try and make amends to those people, who am I?
Bottom line: Shame that it would take an apocalypse to propel me to ask forgiveness from those I've hurt and relief that I don't believe in the notion to begin with. Not a pretty picture either way.