I like to say that I will die at 29. Last night, I had to consider moving the date up considerably.
I went to open gym at a nearby facility and I was trying to throw double backflips on trampoline. Towards the end, I managed to injure myself. I rely on third party witnesses for a description of what happened because, well, I don’t remember.
Apparently, I over-rotated on the second spin and came down hard on the trampoline, which sent my knee flying into my temple, resulting in a nice bruise. After a few moments of nausea and lying on the floor moaning, I shrugged it off and went back to flipping.
AFTER driving back, and AFTER dessert, and AFTER showering, only then did I discover that I became horrendously dizzy when lying down with my eyes closed. I might have had a concussion. But I was unwilling to go to the Emergency Room. Why? Because I am stupid.
Anyway, I was bent on trying to sleep a second time, but knowing I might have a concussion, I was forced to consider the possibility that I might not wake up. What I did then was so indicative of the kind of person I am.
Faced with my own mortality, I didn’t tell anyone I loved them. I didn’t write tearful goodbye letters. I didn’t write a will and final testament.
Instead, I wrote down all my passwords and logins and saved them where anyone could find them on my computer.
I don’t know what that says about me.
What would you do if you knew you might not wake up tomorrow? What does that say about you?