Fooled Again

Well shit. It didn't happen. Again. Why can't they nail this thing down? Here I am, all dressed up and no place to go. What a bust! Just like last time! I mean, it's not like this is some trip to Legoland, jack. This is IT, baby, that's all she wrote!

One prepares for a thing like this. Clean underwear, hair washed, nails sanded. New earrings and a matching toe ring. I'm relatively sober (wouldn't want to meet The Man completely sober), haven't blown a doobie in a coon's age, been keeping up the exercise routine. Even been thinking good thoughts about all the dead rels, who I'm about to run into again. Excuse me, who I was about to run into again. But nooooooo.

Just because some joker can't get his calendar straight. Why didn't the asshole just Google it? The Huffington Post would've had a bead on something this big. And it's always a guy, am I right? Afraid to ask directions to the bitter End Times. A woman would've been more organized: pick up dry cleaning, stop by liquor store, reconfirm date of Rapture.

But how silly of me, like I'll be one of those floaters rising into the clouds, that's a laugh. Better rethink this thing. I'll need a change of wardrobe, for starters. Wet suit, waterproof mascara, maybe my husband's golf umbrella. For when the wrath of God rains down. For seven years, if I remember correctly.

Except wait a sec, hold the phone, that reminds me...I was baptized! I was confirmed! I was in Luther League for crissakes! Okay, maybe it was just to get felt up by boys on hayrides, but still! Shouldn't all those Good Fridays my mother made me stay inside and work on my Jesus of Nazareth coloring book while my friends ran wild around the neighborhood on their day off school count for something? Shouldn't there be a record of this shit somewhere?

Not that it would change anything.

When I opened my eyes this morning (a miracle in itself) and realized that nothing was any different, it was all just the same old same old, the first words out of my mouth were,

"Well I'll be damned."

Which, in any Rapturous event, would most likely be the case. So next time, fuck it, I'm going to party like there's no tomorrow. And you can hold me to it.