A few things I learned this weekend, before, during and after the End of the World Fail:
You can actually be too busy cleaning the house and getting ready for family to visit to remember that the end is nigh.
Returning a rental car at a busy metropolitan airport sometimes means you have to drive over two rows of nasty-looking spikes (while a younger, impatient driver yells They only pop the tires if you go the other way, lady!) As you are exiting the drop-off area, someone will hand you a really nasty pamphlet explaining Revelations and why you're going to be burning in hell in tomorrow. P.S., You will be so rattled by the spike thing that you will thank them for it.
When you contemplate what will happen to you if the Apocalypse ever does occur during your lifetime, you become absolutely convinced that you will be the one who has to do all the dirty laundry left behind by the Rapture.
$822.00 is what one pays for one month's supply of six of the nineteen medications keeping an elderly person alive when the computer refuses to accept their out-of-state insurance card. The computer also refuses to accept "Armageddon is right around the corner, you know" as a reason to give you the cheaper prices.
You decide the Apocalypse needs a funny T-shirt, and think up the one you want to wear, and then post it in a comment on someone's weblog (don't hit me, Raine.)
When you sign a book for someone who lives in a beautiful, exotic part of the world that you have missed for years, you will write "I wish I could pack myself in this box" which is weird but not as creepy as your first idea, which was "When the end is nigh, can I come and hang out with you?"
You can drive hundred miles on a busy interstate and miss all the billboards about the end of the world because you're too preoccupied dodging guys in expensive sedans who are texting while they're doing 80 mph while you simultaneously argue with a loved one about the care and feeding of elderly dogs.
You realize that the prospect of the complete, total destruction of all that you know and love does not frighten you as much as what will happen if you don't get the teenager's favorite outfit washed before school tomorrow.
So what, if anything, did the Apocalypse Not Now teach you? Let us know in comments.