"All I could think about," said a 50-year old nurse who'd recently been in a plane that lost an engine, "was my garage. How I hadn't cleaned it, and how messy it would be when someone came in and saw it. It's crazy what you think about."That would be the Complete and Total Loser. I hope that if I don't die in my sleep I at least have a nice thought as I do. Chances are, with my being a Complete and Total Loser, that won't be the case.
Did I flush the toilet? Why isn't my dirty underwear in my laundry bag instead of near it on the floor? Why didn't I make a simple will to prevent what little money I have going to the state? Who will clean out my stuff? What will they make of my reading choices? And the pornography? There's not much of it, but what's there they might find ...
questionable. Why didn't I go out more? Take more chances in life? At least I wouldn't be about to die in coach. What will happen to my Netflix account and all the other automatic withdrawal things I have? Why didn't I vacuum my apartment? It only takes five minutes. Will the shirts I left at the laundry be dontated to charity someday? I wonder if I have time to write a note before the plane hits. If I do write one, where should I put it? Under my sock? In a pocket? Tuck it down my underwear? That'd be weird. Would people think I'm some kind of pervert if I do that? Who'd want to touch it? Maybe I should put it—