QotD: Best Week Ever

If you knew you had one week to live, what would you do, where would you go, who would you see? 
Submitted by normatheartist

I need a little clarification here.  How am I going to go?  Because this is an important factor.  Do I have a disease of some sort?  Because if I'm so ill to the point that I have a week to live, my guess is that I'm probably going to be bed-ridden.  Or is this one of those weird things where at some point I met a gypsy who let me view my death in a crystal ball, so that I know exactly when/where/how it's going down, but I can't change the outcome.  And now there's a week left, and I've had years to come to terms with it ...so what would I do during this last week?  OR... are we talking an end of the world type scenario?  The asteroid/comet is headed our way, Jesus is back, and any moment now the seas will start boiling? 

Just wondering.  It kind of makes a difference. 

Oddly enough this is a scenario my friends and I have often discussed over a few PBRs at Lula's, and the general consensus is that when the shit hits the fan, we all wanted to be right there with each other and that fantastic jukebox they used to have down there.  [Which has since been replaced by a fancy shmancy electronic computerized jukebox.  LAME.]  When the asteroid hit, we'd all be right there together, dying in the place where we had spent most evenings.  And this is either extremely poetic or extremely pathetic, depending on your point of view.  [The older and further away from that time in my life I get, the more pathetic it appears, oddly enough.  But not so pathetic that I would be the stick in the mud who ruined our last party by not showing up.  My guess is that I'll become that stick in the mud eventually, but I probably have at least 15 good years left.]

But I digress.

Let's just go with a compromise here.  Because if I'm bed-ridden, what is there to say?  Oh, I'll suck some apple sauce through a straw and hallucinate that trolls are doing the Macarena across the ceiling, once the fever kicks in.  And if we're talking apocalypse, there probably won't be much to do except head to higher ground and curse one another for not listening to all the greenies when we were originally warned that global warming would destroy us all.  So we'll go with the gypsy scenario.  I met a psychic when I was on a Big Adventure looking for my bike that was stolen, and before she told me the bike was in the basement of the Alamo, she let me see how/when I was going to die, and now the zero hour is upon me.  [Yes, she was wrong about the bike as it turns out, but that's besides the point, as the Alamo didn't have a basement.  Oh wait... that wasn't me.  Crap.  Okay, okay, but the death thing was definitely about me.]

So... what are my plans?  [Gosh, it took me a long time to get to the actual answer of this question.  I have problems.] 

Well, I would have one last marathon sleep, because I really enjoy sleeping, and I don't know what the rules are about sleeping after you're dead.  I mean, I know it's the "big sleep," but I doubt it's anything like being in my huge comfy bed.  I would sleep for a good 14 or 16 hours, and then probably just stay awake the rest of the time, until the end.

I would make sure to spend quality time with my friends and family, individually, especially Goulah, of course.  We'd go to Coney Island, because I've never been.  I'd stay up all night talking with my friends and family, saying all the things that I should have probably said when I still had time.  [As cliche as that is.]  I would drink insane amounts of sweet tea, and gorge on all my favorite things: sushi, crab legs, asparagus, cucumbers, chocolate gelato, mashed potatoes, my grandma's cornbread, blueberries, broccoli smothered in cheese and ranch dressing, goat cheese, Doritos.  All at once.  With no regard to being full or getting fat.  Mmmmm.  I'd swim in the ocean one last time.  I'd go out one night with my two best friends and stay up all night like we used to and laugh and sing and be stupid.  At the end of the week, I'd have a nice, intimate dinner with my immediate family and closest friends.   Kind of a like a birthday dinner except... well, a deathday dinner.  I'd spend my last evening with Goulah, in our little apartment, where I am so happy.  [...Trying to talk him into waiting until after the funeral to start dating again.]

These are probably things I should do anyway, imminent death or not.  And there are probably a lot more things I'd want to do as well. 

And, let's face facts, I'm probably going to have to work really hard to be cheery that week.