Sitting up on the side of a mountain, a gargantuan collection of rock, sediment, and random organic matter can make a person feel like they’re on top of the world and anything is within their grasp, or it can cause them to realize how unattainable everything is. They realize for a moment just how small us humans really are compared to the rest of creation.  For me right now, however, it just helps me momentarily forget that I’m living on a ticking time bomb.

  I know exactly how long we have before one of two things happen:

1. We get hit by a huge meteor and all life on earth dies a fiery death

2. We get hit by a huge meteor and the huge amount of force severely alters our orbit, causing our climate to heat up so drastically that all life on Earth dies a fiery death.

Do you see a pattern here?  Yup, we’re all going to die a fiery death, and if my calculations are correct, it should be within the next two days.  This, needless to say, is a bit of an issue.

I’m not exactly sure what the government is planning to do about this, but whatever it is they better act fast.  48 hours is not a long time.  I can only hope that they figure out some miracle, but let’s face it.  It’s not going to happen.  It’s just not possible.  Unfortunately, due to our current (unclassified) state when it comes to technology, there is absolutely nothing we can do about the impending doom.

You can almost see it now.  It’s the middle of the day, but since we have beautiful bluebird skies today in Utah, you can see it.  It’s a faint blue streak going across a good portion of our sky, just a slightly lighter value of blue than the peaceful skies around it.  It’s crazy how people can be so completely oblivious to something so prominent.

I just don’t understand.  Why?  Why now?  Why do I have to know?  It’s a beautiful day outside.  Why is it that a meteor must do this now?   Why do I have to be the only one that knows? Things were just starting to look up.  I was finally settling down in my own house.  I was finally starting to improve at work.  Some of the higher ups in the lab had taken notice of my paper on the fractionality of atoms exposed to high levels of solar wind.

It was a discovery that could’ve revolutionized space travel.  It would’ve won a Nobel Peace Prize.  I should’ve worked harder, I could’ve worked more hours, it would’ve been done at least a year earlier than it was.

Shoulda.

Coulda.

Woulda.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing much I can do now other than sit up here and wait.  Wait and watch that pale blue streak get brighter and brighter until it’s all over.  There’s a highway down below me, and I’ve been choosing to watch that instead.  Hundreds of cars, all going places, none of them aware of what’ll happen in 47 hours.

God, I wish I was them, I wish I could just go on with my life.  I wonder if I wasn’t the only one to discover this.  Maybe there’s someone else out there, on the side of a mountain, sitting, watching, waiting for everyone else to realize.  There are two reactions when looking out off the side of a mountain, and right now, I’m the one who feels very, very small.