I, or my parents, have been told about my imminent death quite a few times. The first time, me being small, five weeks early, it being the 80's and me having hypothermia to boot, started the first bad prognosis. Somehow, I showed them.
Through the years, and after numerous surgeries and some close calls, we've heard it about 10-15 times. While a blister may end up putting me on the bench- damn my slow healing... I'm kicking.
So, first My Bucket List, then the things I'd do if I knew, 100%, no redemption, and no possibility of delays, that I'd be gone within 7 days.
"I'm going to Disneyland!" My smart alec comment after I've worked on something, whether it be singing in church, done a project, or hit a highpoint, to the question "Well, what are you going to do NOW?" Also, I really want to see Mickey and Minnie in person, just once.
Finish my psych degree. Self explanatory, no? And screw those who've told me, that now that I've come and gone from school during illness that apparently I'm a bit too old and it's silly now. Plus, I'd be in my 40's or 50's when I graduate, they say. I tell them, "I'll be in my 40's or 50's anyway." I mean it, too. I never start something without finishing it. Even if it takes me forever.
Open a cafe.
Help people abused by normal systems, even those designed to help. Confusing as it sounds: Even Social Services can abuse, I've seen it. Because the greedy know how to play. Help those, who deal with discrimination because of anything, race, handicap, diet, religion, whatever. Use the abilities God gave- from difficulty forgetting things to capabilities of reading quickly (4 entire thick books, with 1,000s of pages, in a 9 hour span, and all of Night by Eli Wietzel as well. Because I had no where to go.The capability to describe things. The tendency to be stubborner than hell. There's more, I'm trying to think of what might be MOST useful.
Spend time with, and enjoy my family
Be "Comfortable"- I've made the first step, and set up in 28 days. Good heavens.
Drive. Something sharp. Like the glory that is a classic 60's muscle car in pure black, to a simple Mustang, shined up and purring prettily. *drool*. I'm not a "Brand Queen", except for Jags and Mustangs, but go for "Does it purr? Does it run well? Is repair/ maintenance worth more than the car?" I'll start with something simple.
Send a general and polite "Screw you" to those who told me "You can't". By being me- living well as they say, and not repeating their behaviors.
Get a motorcycle license and a beautiful Harley. Same principle as the sports' car. Graceful curves and a nice little roar. That sweet roar is a lullabye for me. Here, I am a bit of a brand queen, admittedly. I like Indians, as well, but you don't see them often anymore.
Ok, there's a basic list of the most out there things. Pretty much--- I want a place for me, somewhere, a place for me... a car, cash, freedom, the ability to grieve as I have yet to do, and not feel like I'm borrowing my mother from her boyfriend. A chance to say goodbye to the past. Maybe make some new friends here and there. Screw dating... I don't want anything but a matchless-match, screw the Yentas, but hanging out? Sure, ok. People who don't make me feel as if it's a huge favor. I'm not myself, perhaps, but I'm writing it down so I don't suddenly shout at someone. Because I'm in an angry stage. A "I want to run, have some time to myself, but I am stuck because they say they 'need me' but shove me around instead" time. There are more goals but I'll get to them later.
If I had seven days:
I'd buy a cute outfit or two. Things I've liked but have been to shy to wear.
Read a few classics again.
Run wild and barefoot. Just for fun.
Go skinny dipping.
Have a prime rib dinner. Complete with the most expensive champagne I can find.
Buy ice cream for everyone I see.
And snuggle up with someone- a sister, friend, whatever... in a nice warm blanket under the stars. And on my last day, I'd make French toast with my homemade bread... dance for a while, spend time with friends. And pig out. A frigging smörgåsbord. And leave surprises and treasure maps for special people. So I can spoil people one last time.
Oh, and as a special screw you,
Dear Ex Hubby,
You didn't get the house when we divorced. You've already made it an unhealthy house. Well, you're not getting it now. Screw you, and the horse you rode in on.
You're just an asshole in tinfoil. And a common thief.
For everyone else:
Namaste, so long, I'll catch you LATER. As in, don't miss me, I haven't gone anywhere.
I'd buy some outfits for the hell of it