There's some panic, but not as much anxiety as last year. In the process of mourning for my future legal career, I have moved past the stages of denial and anger and whatnot and am well into acceptance. In fact, I feel like the old guy at the end of Deep Impact who is waiting for the wave to hit him and kind of just closes his eyes and waits for oblivion. I know I'm bleeped, but you know what? That's OK. The wave's pretty damn big. I'm just going to close my eyes and hope to wake up in a better place.
And, if I've learned anything (let's pretend I have), it's the following: Please, for the love of Jiminy Cricket, make a will. Better yet would be to put your assets in a trust, but, failing that, at least don't let your estate pass through intestacy. And, if you want to bequeath any of your nice, shiny objects to me, that's perfectly OK too. In fact, I encourage it.
Should I not make it through tomorrow, I hereby devise my entire estate to my immediate family. Except for the box under my bed. That box should never be opened, and summarily burned. Those who burn it would do well to stand upwind of it.
Instead of spending your money on cards or flowers, I ask that you instead spend it at a bar, getting sloppy drunk and making both merry and bad decisions.
I also ask that you avenge me.
1 comment:
that was a terribly invalid will.
good luck... actually, nm it's over i think, well good grading...?
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