It's the end of the world as we know it... and I feel fantastic!

Let's see, this year started with several earthquakes, birds falling from the sky, a snake escaping the zoo and tweeting about it, I'm sure an airplane or two has crashed and I doubt Lenny Bruce fears any of this since he's dead. Well, move over, Nostradamus, REM had it right all along. It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. I'd even go as far to say that I feel great. It's taking all my might not to giggle with glee and tell customers, "Have a nice day... it may be your last."

I can't help it. I've been in a bad mood and the weather has basically been apocalyptic. Plus, marathoning The Walking Dead, X-Files, 24, and Jericho is bound to mess with a person's head. So it might have been a bit fantastical when a bright light shone in my window and I assumed I was being abducted. An honest mistake. (It actually was the coppers with their LED flashlights probably breaking up the brothel and/or crack house across the street) But now it's the little things that have me hoping for the rapture. For example, just because I ask if you need any help doesn't mean you're helpless- you just look confused. You are still capable of looking in the clothing rack instead of telling me what size you need, then engaging me in an awkward stare down until I look for you.

Plus, I already work in the hell hole, a giant "Welcome back!" party for Jesus can't be much worse, right? So I will greet the apocalypse with open arms and test out my survival skills that I learned from only the best TV shows and films. Even the CDC thinks it will be a zombie outbreak AND the History Channel just showed a special on how to survive a "pandemic." Pandemic. Right. Wink, wink, nudge nudge. So I will just have to grab my razor scooter, trusty zombie hunting dog, and find my own ragtag band of survivors.

I am still trying to figure out what role I would play in this group. I am surely not leading lady material. And who needs that pesky love triangle that always seems to tag along with the pretty ladies in dire survival situation? No, no, I think I've cemented myself in as the fat, funny sidekick. Unfortunately, thanks to rule one (cardio), I might not live too long. You guys would never leave me behind because I can make light of whatever horrible situation we're in no matter how inappropriate my comments are, right? Right?