If you look up the definition of “wallflower” in the dictionary, my picture should be next to it, provided it’s some kind of picture book dictionary. I hate confrontation and avoid it at all cost. My parents thought I was intellectually disabled because I didn’t speak until I was five years old. I’m not stupid; I just didn’t want to bother anyone. So when my doctor told me I had a week left to live, I just shrugged. Bummer. I kept my mouth shut, a smile plastered on my face.
That night, however, my mind was running. Some people choose “YOLO” as their life motto, but what was going through my mind was “YODO” — you only die once. Scenes from my life starting running through my mind, like a very quiet, very boring movie. My heart was beating. My breathing quickened. What was this sensation? Maybe it was the disease that was ravaging my body, or maybe, I had finally had enough. I came to a decision. This is how I’m going to spend my last week on earth:
1. Tell The Cashier At Ralph’s That He’s Packing My Bags Wrong And Show Him How To Do It Properly
Who puts eggs at the bottom of the bag?! Every time I go shopping, my grocery bag bursts and all my groceries get destroyed. I’d like to, just once, enjoy the Jello pudding I buy.
2. Finally Say “I Know Avocado Is Extra” To The Chipotle Guy
Avocado is my favorite food and I’m tired of being told it’s extra. Enough is enough. Does Captain Obvious work at Chipotle? Does he work at Hoke Poke? How many jobs does this guy need, on top of his captaincy duties? They don’t have to tell me every time I go if I eat there multiple times per week.
3. Honk My Car Horn
Honking my horn always seemed so aggressive to me. Consequently, I’ve had someone backup into my car an amazing 12 times, and because of that, the mechanic is my best friend a.k.a my only friend. (The person you see the most frequently is considered your best friend, right?) Well, I’m honking this week. Watch out, teenager sitting on Instagram when the light turns green, I’m about to give you a light toot.
4. Leave A Silly Note On My Rent Check
This one makes me giggle, so I’m going to do this as a treat for myself. When I write next month’s rent check, in the notes section, I’m going to write, “So long, sucker!” Get it? Because I’m leaving both the apartment and my physical body. And when I go to drop that rent check off, I’m going to let my landlord know my name is Diana. Not Diane. It says my name right there on the check, every month, yet he calls me Diane every single time. Not anymore, sucker!
5. Talk To My Upstairs Neighbors About Their Bad Behavior
I declare this will be the week I don’t get smacked in the face with garbage! I know that sounds weird, but the people who live in the apartment above me have this habit of throwing their garbage off their balcony, which ricochets into my apartment. I’ve been hit with empty laundry detergent containers, water bottles, and even cigarette butts. That last one didn’t hurt, but it’s by far the most bothersome. I’m going to march upstairs and politely say, “Please stop throwing your garbage off the balcony.” That will show them. And this is crazy, but I don’t even care if doing so makes them not like me. That’s right. So they won’t be at my funeral. It’s fine. Their loss!
This week is going to be the best week of my life. And I pray that I die next Thursday as expected because I’d never be able to handle the backlash of my actions otherwise.