In these hectic days leading up to the Apocalypse, it’s important that you make every second count. Even though scientists and Mayans tell us that Armageddon won’t be for another year, Crazies tell us that it will happen in a few months! And who knows if the Vikings had a specific date for their Apocalypse prophecy that we don’t know about. It could happen tomorrow! Therefore, I have composed a detailed itinerary for you so that you may live this day like it’s your last. Because, bad news, tomorrow you die. However, good news, you will ascend into heaven and probably have a better time there than you did on Earth. That is, if we are to believe What Dreams May Come, which scientists, Mayans and Crazies alike agree is the most accurate portrayal of heaven on film. If you haven’t seen the movie, I don’t want to ruin it, just in case you somehow see it before tomorrow, but two words: Robin Williams. Excited? Me too! But, before we (spoiler alert!) go frolicking through a field made of paint, let’s live it up!

6 am: Wake up. Make sure your alarm is set so it plays “Alive” by P.O.D., your favorite song of all time. This beautiful day needs a soundtrack and you don’t want to miss a moment of it. That being said, you’ll appreciate it a lot more if you get a bit more sleep. Turn off “Alive” by P.O.D.

12 pm: Wake up for real this time. You feel great! You should eat something to fortify yourself for the big day ahead. Use the only food items left in your fridge and cupboard to make a sandwich, composed of two pieces of Swiss cheese, the tail end of a family size bin of Supremely Spicy hummus you bought last night and two ends of bread. Wrap it in cellophane because you will be taking it with you into the shower.

12:15 pm: Take a forty-five minute shower. Remember, water conservation doesn’t matter anymore, because tomorrow there will be no people, or showers, or Earth. That also means that you can use ALL of your fancy body wash that you had been using sparingly. Take care to only unwrap the cellophane on your sandwich for each individual bite, there’s nothing worse than a soggy sandwich. Except maybe the forthcoming Apocalypse.

1:00 pm: This is your last chance to do the things you’ve always wanted to do, but never had the courage. So it’s finally time to watch The Royal Wedding in the nude. Let yourself air dry, cue up the DVR, and watch four of the eight hours of coverage and relive the pageantry of a traditional Church of England wedding ceremony. Whilst doing this, you should be drinking Earl Gray tea spiked with whiskey and eating an entire tin bucket of three types of popcorn. (One third salty popcorn, one third cheese popcorn and one third dessert caramel popcorn). Finish it. What, are you going to save it for the cockroaches that survive our fiery demise? They don’t deserve your popcorn.

5:00 pm: Dress yourself in your favorite outfit, which would be elastic-waisted hot pants, a loose fitting T-shirt with holes in the armpits, an ascot and faux-fur-lined house slippers. Go to the dog park and imagine what it would be like if the little dog wearing the sweater had been with Seal Team 6. Consider that a tiny dog dressed in pink with titanium teeth might have been more frightening in its own way. Reflect on the fact that it’s sort of annoying that we took Osama down so close to the End of the World. It’s like, what’s the point? But then it’s like, you get the point. Look around you and say, out loud, “We all get the point!” so people look at you strangely. Congratulations, you are the center of attention for the last time in this lifetime.

6:30 pm: Leave the dog park, go home and look at Facebook for a few hours. You could call your Mom, but you could always write on her Facebook wall instead. Wow, turns out her joining Facebook was actually useful in the end. Write “Bye, Mom. Thnx 4 Everything <3 CU in Heaven w/ Robin Williams.”

9:00 pm: Now that all of your loose ends are tied up, consider that you might want to have sex before you die, but then consider that you have four more hours of the Royal Wedding left on DVR. The answer is clear. Take off all of your clothes, turn on the television, and wait for sweet oblivion.