The photo above is what inter-dimensional real estate might look like
Today everything changed.
Actually, it was yesterday.
I have been thinking a lot, I mean, a LOT about what I want to do when I grow up, and finally came to the conclusion that it was to trod (tread?) my sandaled feet over the bones of dead kings as I took their thrones, watching them crushed, seeing them driven before me, and hearing the lamentations of their women!
No, wait. That’s Conan.
Me, I wanted to start blogging again. I came to that conclusion. I mean, if I talked, even AS LOUD AS I COULD, I could only influence a few hundred cult followers people. My booming basso profundo voice only carries so far.
But blogging could allow me to reach everyone on Earth with an IPhone©, or an unexploded Samsung®, even. If you’ve been in a restaurant recently, you’ve seen that’s everyone, even babies.
As I discussed my evil plan for world domination helping people with a friend, a funny thing happened. This person, making a salary and bonus in the top 1% of people in America, decided to sign up to sell real estate, and follow their passion to see where it takes them.
Huh?
As I discussed my evil plan elsewhere, a different blogger decided to take up a keyboard again, and (maybe) a person to pick up a long-neglected novel.
Huh?
There are thousands of people that are literally sleepwalking through life.
You may be one of them.
I was.
Let me explain:
I was driving through a small town in the Midwest with my sons and saw a sign that said, “Jim McGill, Insurance and Real Estate.”
I spontaneously pulled out my best radio announcer voice and said,
“Jim McGill is here to help you with all of your insurance and real estate needs, AS HE HAS FOR A THOUSAND YEARS HERE IN CEDAR RIDGE.
“No one has more experience than McGill, who has brought the experience of his countless years of his nigh-immortal life and communion with the deep powers of the earth to find the best property for you. Since the dawn of time, there is no insurance agent who will ever get you a better deal.”
The Boy piped in: “Brought to you by the power of the Necronomicon™.”
We laughed. Life is like that around our house.
I reflected on it the following day at work. Why was it so very funny? (And, trust me, nothing makes a joke better than explaining it)
Simple: because you expect an immortal living on Earth to have a mountain redoubt, and an evil plan to take over Estonia, not sell insurance in a town of 2000 people.
Then it hit me. I don’t have a thousand years. I *might* have 30 or 40.
Why did I waste today?
And why did you waste today?
You don’t have many days. That’s why I’m writing this at 12:36AM instead of playing a game. Or sleeping.
I don’t have time to waste, since I’m not an immortal insurance agent.
And neither do you. Unless you’re Jim McGill.
Regardless, get to work.
I think I met the guy. He sold me my house a while back.
I noticed he had a distinct odor of old, dusty books and slightly expired meat, and he was always complaining about how radical Victorian architecture is.
Undead realtors are cool.
Well, mine wasn’t really cool. More room temperature?