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If I knew that I was going to die tomorrow, I would have my work cut out for me. For one, I'm sure that for the first few hours, I would be in denial: "Why would I die tomorrow? Why not some day in the distant future?" However, I would eventually have to face the grim reality that in twenty-four hours, I will have moved on to a different world.

First, I would sit down and write out a will. Yes, I know, it has no legal value if I don't have an attorney work it out with me, but I wouldn't have the time nor money for that. Instead, I'd write a note to may parents telling them how I want all of my stuff evenly distributed: All of my cash would go to my best friend, my hat would go to my girlfriend, my friends could take whatever other clothing they wanted, my weights would go to my mom (she's always wanted to get in better shape), my massive book collection would be split between my girlfriend and other friends (a lot of which just happen to be girls who enjoy reading), and anything left behind in my room would go to my brother. My computer would be given to my mom to use for her business.

Once my will is completed, I would post it in my room, over my bed. Then, I would bike to my best friend's house to say good-bye. We would talk, I would tell him anything that I haven't told him in all the years I've known him, and then I would leave him to go say good-bye to my other friends who are close by. Then, I would return home and say good-bye to my parents, brother, and my dogs. Of course, they would want to do everything possible to keep me alive, but that would be futile. Afterwards, I would make the journey to my girlfriend's house, where I'd probably spend the rest of my life.

I love her. I would arrive at her doorstep without warning and spend every last second of my life with her. I would confess to her that there was more I should've done for her, for she had such a huge impact on my life. I would give her my thumbdrive as well; it has a ton of articles, passwords, and other information on it that I haven't had time to share with her yet. If I had it my way (and if I had her mom's permission) I wouldn't let go of her all afternoon and all night; I would die in her arms, letting her know that my very last thought was how soft her hair was as it caught in my teeth and draped over our shoulders.

It may be hackneyed, but I believe that my last thought should be a good one. First of all, if my death cannot be prevented, I want to make the most of it, don't I? Die with

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