It says so right there on the billboards.  These are Southern California freeway-priced billboards, so somebody’s paid some serious dough to get the message out:

JUDGMENT DAY
May 21, 2011…  The Bible Guarantees It!

Now, there’s a slight chance these billboards were bought by a bunch of Christian high school boys, all pitching in their allowances for a common purpose. My guess is that on Friday night, May 20, these boys will take a walk with their innocent girlfriends, someplace quiet and dark. Each boy will whisper urgently, “C’mon, baby, the world’s ending tomorrow! Didn’t you see the billboards?”

It had to have been the boys, don’t you think? But what if  it wasn’t the boys at all, but someone with the inside scoop — the kind of scoop nobody in the history of the world has ever had?  If that’s the case, you can’t be too prepared.

Of course there’s no need to worry about life insurance, or getting the house cleaned or finishing that project at work. No worries about grocery shopping or paying your late taxes or buying anything for Father’s Day (sorry, dads).

Kinda liberating, isn’t it?  Except for one thing. What to wear.  Are you kidding me? Of course that’s something to be considered.  If you fear the ambulance may come when you put on torn underwear, don’t you think you ought to put a little consideration into what you put on for the End of the World? This is the greatest wardrobe dilemma of all time! I, for one, have been shopping my closet for weeks.

Those black spiky heels are normally just too damned uncomfortable, but if I’m going to be damned anyway…?  No. Once you’ve committed to the shoes, the outfit has to complement and, please, there’s no way I’m wearing a business suit or a cocktail dress to this event. Work will be so over, and provocative probably isn’t appropriate. (Also, at my age “provocative” is something more along the lines of a hijab, and I’m guessing that would raise a whole host, so to speak, of other issues.)

You might say, “I came in naked, so that’s the way I’m going out.”  But have you considered we might have to wait in some kind of line?

Pajamas? Nice ones — silk? Given the big sleep and all?  But, as I said, there could be a line.  Comfortable is probably good, but not sloppy, for heaven’s sake. Or too warm in case it’s, you know…not heaven.

Now I’m starting to think it’s not the outfit at all, but the color scheme that should drive this decision:

White – Signifying that I am pure, way down deep. Also, that I forgive everyone (that includes you, mean mom of my 8^th grade boyfriend who said I was a slut when I wasn’t, even.)

Red – I’m guilty of other stuff, so everyone who agrees, forgive me.      Please?

Blue – This is all a little depressing, don’t you think?

Green – I loved those trees!

Yellow – Of course I’m afraid. It’s Judgment Day!

Black – Well, duh.

If we’re all going out together, though, maybe we should agree on a dress code. Something special, Auld Lang Syne-ish.  Shoot, now I’m back to the black spike heels.