A couple days ago, Amanda wrote about the number 13 and how 2013 is not actually as horrifying of a prospect as we make it out to be. She is correct. Rational and correct. I am, however, irrational and totally one of those crazy people who feels that tomorrow might actually be the last day on earth.

First of all, let me point out that I do, indeed, know tomorrow will be fine. I do! I swear. I am 23 years old, god dammit, I know better. Don’t I?

Regardless, I can’t help but feel really, really terrified of how the world is supposed to turn out, in general. I have yet to feel secure about the state of the earth — at least, not since I was a young child, but even then I had a huge fear of tornados and volcanos — and I am afraid of the entire world ending in this ridiculous cloud of smoke. Voila! No more. Bam. Like throwing a spice in Emeril’s kitchen, something smacks us and we’re gone.

I’m more realistic than that, however, because I do believe we have enough sustainability issues and problems with the general human race that eventually, we just won’t be able to exist the way we do any longer. And I think that will happen in my lifetime, or my kids’ lifetimes. But! I still have this very silly, very irrational fear that everyone I love will someday evaporate or turn into a zombie or something equally “goodbye”-less.

I write this from New York City, right now, which is not my normal home, so I am 100% extra afraid. But at the same time, being quite terrified has made it so that I am a little bit softer this week. Logically, I know I’ll be seeing people next week or next month; nevertheless, I still am hugging a little tighter. I think I’ll be ordering creme brulee soon, sitting back, watching BBC’s End Day for a little while and taking a nap this afternoon to take my mind off of the fact that inside, my emotions are completely silly and about as valid as Warren Jeff’s.

Photo: The Walking Dead