The cable man arrived at nine, and left an hour later since I only had him put in one line. When I signed the ticket, I mentioned my surprise that he came out the day after I called.

He chuckled. “I’ve never seen that happen. It must be your lucky day.”

My lucky day. I liked the sound of that.

I'd studied my list while I waited for him to finish. To my amazement, I had checked off nine items already. Of course, there was the empty number twenty-nine to deal with, but I decided not to worry about that one. I’d already had enough new experiences, any of which I could plug in the space.

I needed a plan. I had four days left. To get them all accomplished, I needed to complete five a day. Which five would I do today?

I decided to pick out the items that looked the hardest. Maybe I could do one of those a day. Those were: the Seven Deadly Sins in one week, ride in a convertible, do more with a man, go to Italy, ride a motorcycle, fly in an airplane, play in the rain. That was seven and only four days. The sins needed to be spread out anyway. I just needed to make sure I did two a day and I’d be done with time to spare. The two that worried me the most were going to Italy, which seemed out of the question, and play in the rain. What if it didn't rain between now and Sunday?

I decided to worry about those two later. Today, I’d just wing it with the sins. And for the other wishes, it seemed logical to start at the top. Buy some makeup, visit a beauty salon, get a pedicure. The next item: ride in a convertible. How could I do that?

I’d rent one. I got out the phone book and looked up a car rental agency. “I’d like to rent a convertible.”

“How long? A day? A week?”

Shoot, why not a week? I told him I’d be there within an hour.

When it came time for me to leave, Muffy followed me around, hanging her head and tucking her tail between her legs. “Don’t be doin’ that.” I said, rubbing her head. “I can’t take you with me, but I’ll bring you back a surprise when I come home, okay?”

Muffy seemed unconvinced.

With all the farting she’d done, I decided it would be safer to keep her in the bathroom. Definitely an easier clean up if she made a mess.

I started out the door and saw the wooden box on the kitchen table, where I left it days ago, still in the paper bag. As an afterthought, I grabbed the bag and threw it in the car.

I was ready to see what was inside.

The rental agency was the first stop. I’d never rented a car before, but it proved easy enough, and I left with a white Sebring convertible. I climbed into the front seat and studied the buttons until I figured out how to put the top down. The heat had risen to a nearly intolerable level, the high humidity causing steam to rise from the pavement, but the whole point of having a convertible was to put the top down.

I drove toward downtown and realized why I always saw people who drove convertibles wearing sunglasses. The blinding sun made it difficult to see. Necessity instigated my next stop. Wal-Mart had a multitude of sunglasses on display. After trying on multiple pairs, I finally decided on one with black plastic frames and large, dark lenses.

As I walked toward the pharmacy section, the lingerie department caught my eye. I blushed thinking about Joe seeing me in my nighty. Further down my list wear a lacy bra and panties lingered. I forced myself to ignore the utilitarian underwear I usually wore, and focused on the lacy, pretty things.

They were beautiful and came in so many colors and styles. Wickedness took hold of me. Why wear lingerie only one day? Why not every day for the next four days? I picked out white, black, lavender and red, the evilest of all. No one would ever see them, so why not? I took them into the fitting room and tried on the black set first, amazed the woman returning my gaze in the mirror was me. I looked like a Victoria’s Secret model.

I was buying all four.

I’d just have to make sure to wear the white lingerie on Sunday. When they found my body.

For the first time, the seriousness of it hit me. I was going to die. My breath caught in my chest, and I gasped for air, sitting down on the dressing room bench.

I’m going to die.

I let myself have a good cry, right there in the Walmart fitting room, wearing nothing but my wicked black bra and panties, the price tag poking me in the side. Was this really how I wanted to spend my last four days? Working my way through a list ranging from committing all Seven Deadly Sins to doing more with a man? I looked back on the last twenty-four years, all wasted, and stared at my tear-streaked face in the mirror.

Hell, yeah.

I dug through my purse and found a package of tissues, blew my nose, and wiped away my tears. Enough. You’ve had your cry, you were owed one. But now you’re done. I still had items on my list to do today.

After I bought makeup and a collar and food for Muffy, I headed to the beauty salon. I talked to a stylist and since Aunt Bessie had already cut my hair, we decided I should get highlights, pretty caramel-colored ones that blended in with my dark brown hair. And a manicure to go with the pedicure.

When I left a few hours later, I wondered why I never did these things before. Why I waited until the last days of my life to feel pampered and beautiful. People tell themselves there’s plenty of time to do it all, but most of the time they never see death coming. I sat in the front seat of my rented convertible thinking of all the living I had left to do.

I wasn't ready to go home yet.

I put the top back down, slid on my sunglasses, and headed for the highway, driving seventy miles an hour, the wind blowing through my hair. I never felt so free and alive. This was how I wanted to remember living, if you remembered anything after you were dead. I filed it away in a spot in my mind, a scrapbook of memories to take to the afterlife.