The law librarian who works just outside of my office came to my door about 20 minutes ago to tell me that a tsunami is going to hit Palau at 3:00. That's now in 1 hour.
The words she used were horrific. But the tone was apathetic. This is typical for her. And now I sit, wondering whether to trust the tone or the content of her message. Either we're 1 hour away from total destruction and death, or nothing is going to happen. I feel pretty confident that it's not going to be something in the middle.
But in case I do die today, I want to issue my final words and wishes.
First of all, some confessions:
Bob and Cathie, I'm the one who scratched Micalyne's name into the side of the car in the early '90s.
I'm also the one who spilled that bleach on the carpet when I was 10.
All those flowers that got knocked down by the wind the next year? Me.
I punched Simon Jones in the face at recess during the first grade and almost got expelled from school. You never found out about it because I didn't give you the letter from the principal and he forgot to follow up on it because of his sex abuse case that year. Simon bled everywhere and had to stay home the next day.
Jerk from high school, I'm the one who put chewed gum in your jacket pockets 7 different times in the 10th grade. I was wrong to do it. I saw you bully so many people over the years and since you didn't know me, I figured I would never be suspected. And I don't think I was.
11th grade history teacher, pages 2-4 of my paper on the Industrial Revolution just said, "I hate this class" over and over and over again. You either thought this relevant to the topic or you never read it because you gave me a B+.
In a weak moment last year, I saw a stray cat in Istanbul and asked Krishelle and Daniel if I could keep it.
Next, my will:
I would like all of the mazes I drew in the 4th grade when I could have been learning how to play sports to go to my sister Krishelle.
I want all of my unused sports equipment from my childhood to go to the Make a Wish Foundation.
I want my Snuggie to go to Jane.
The Queen of Colors goes to you guys. Sorry.
And my parents get everything else. Sorry for all the hoarding, Bob and Cathie.
~It Just Gets Stranger