I Worry My Funeral Will Be Sad
Not “ha ha” sad, or sad as in people wailing uncontrollable, throwing themselves atop my casket with grief. Rather, sad as in bland, hushed, and deprived of my input. I foresee my wake being akin to that disastrous birthday party I (poorly) planned in my own honor. I ran out of ice, the beer was warm, there were too few folding chairs, the store-bought sheet cake was stale, and everyone had a miserable time. I subsequently learned they all secretly met for drinks after their mass exodus.
Plan well in advance, and plan well. Don’t forget the ice, and be prepared to tell your story.