In the event that I die, clean my room!
It’s not that I’m afraid to die. It’s that I’m afraid of what they’ll find when they clean out my room after I die.People would see my room and think I’m way more interesting and bizarre than I really am.You see, I was looking around my room today, and I realized, “If someone else had to go through my stuff, they would get a completely inaccurate picture of who I was - an embarrassingly inaccurate idea of the man that is me.”If I died today, and someone cleaned out my room, they would notice that I have four toothbrushes in my sink - and I live alone. That would lead them to think that I was some sort of toothbrush enthusiast or someone who is obsessive about his dental hygiene. I’m neither. What happens is, every time I go on a trip, I forget to bring my toothbrush; so I have to buy new one and then I find it in my suitcase when I return home and another Oral B ends up in my sink. It’s really rather boring.If someone cleaned out my room today, they would also find some corny love letter I wrote to a girlfriend in high school in 1993. They would think, “Wow, he was still hung up on her? How pathetic!” In reality, that note fell out of a dresser drawer I was cleaning out today, but that’s not what people would think if I wasn’t around to explain it.If I left Earth early, people would also find a stack of Topsail Advertisers in the corner of my room by my bed. I can see it now; they’ll say “What a narcissist! This guy liked to take home the newspaper he worked for and read stuff he wrote himself. That’s like watching your favorite rock star sitting in his car listening to his own song. Who does that?” In reality, there’s nothing I hate more than reading my own articles. However, the real reason I bring home the paper I work for is so I can see what I did wrong and try to make the next articles better. So if anything, I read my own articles to find reasons to hate myself, not because I love my own words. But that’s not how it would look if I was dead and couldn’t be here to explain the contents of my bedroom.Among other things people would find in my room would be a bottle of gin and a pack of Winstons. I don’t smoke Winstons and I have know idea why that gin is in my bookshelf. I would also be posthumously ashamed when they noticed that although my bookshelf had liquor and tobacco in it, the one thing it lacked was actual books!I know what your thinking. “Cory, the obvious thing to do would be to clean your room or at least make it more reflective of your personality.” You would say that. But that’s the way that requires effort and maturity. That’s not my way. Instead, I’m going to do this. I’m going to designate one trusted friend as my official “If I Die - Room Cleaner Outer Guy.”I think I’ll bestow my friend Brian with that title. There’s nothing he knows about me that could scare him. As my official “If I Die Room Cleaner Outer Guy,” in the event of my untimely death, it will be Brian’s job to put off his grieving and race to my house and clean out my room before my mother or anyone else who still has any mildly decent opinion of me gets anywhere near my stuff. It will be his job to make me appear normal to the rest of the world. Otherwise, you’d forever wonder why I had one dirty girl’s size 7 flip flop sitting beside a bottle of nyquil. (The reason isn’t nearly as interesting as you would think.)We’re all supposed to prepare for our inevitable last days by making sure our last wishes are known to loved ones, but I think it’s equally important to make our previous interests just as concealed. Don’t forget to designate a trusted friend as your official “If I Die Room Cleaner Outer Guy.” Otherwise, your family might think they never really knew you.