I Kind of Wish the Rapture Happened

So, the Rapture didn't happen. But who's really surprised, other than Harold Camping and his kooky followers? You know what, though? I kind of wish it happened.

Earlier today, I had to run some errands: take the dog to the groomer's, go grocery shopping, make a stop at Pinkberry, yadda yadda yadda. What I had to do wasn't important. But while I was tooling around town, I noticed a strange coincidence: there weren't a whole lot of people out and about. The groomer's was unusually quiet. There was no line at Pinkberry. The roads were clear. Walmart was practically empty. It was amazing. Maybe there was a Lightning game I didn't know about, maybe people were afraid to go out because they actually believed that the end times were near, maybe it was just a strange coincidence. But I thought to myself, if this is how things would be if the Rapture actually occurred, then I am all on board. Ascend into Heaven, peeps! My wait time at Pinkberry just got cut in half. The fanatical killjoys that go around at events like Gasparilla and tell everybody they're going to Hell because they're Catholic, women, black, or wearing red? Gone. Sounds like Paradise to me.

Honestly, I got so caught up in my fantasy of living in a world sans a few million people that I actually grew a little bummed that the Rapture wasn't going to happen. Today's "preview" was just a rare coincidence, and tomorrow life will go on as before. The roads will be crowded. Places will be packed. The line at Pinkberry will be astronomical. Am I sick in the head for wishing that millions of people would suddenly disappear from Earth? Perhaps. So maybe I do have a little something in common with Harold Camping and his followers. I am bummed that the Rapture didn't happen. But I am bummed for all the wrong reasons.