On Tuesday, June 17, 2008, we will be replacing the deck to your building. Please make the necessary arrangements to have the things you need that day from your apartment. We apologize for the inconvenience and ask for your patience as we make PASTAQUEEN’s PALACE a beautiful place to live.
Well, I’m glad they stuck this note in my door before I stepped out my front door and plummeted to my death on Nice-Neighbor-Bill’s front stoop. Sometimes I think of the most likely ways I might die now that I live a relatively healthy life and heart disease is off the list. Choking to death is always at the top of my list.
Living alone, there have been several times when a clump of food has gone down the wrong way and I’ve momentarily wondered if I’m going to suffocate in my living room. My fate would depend on whether I could figure out how to do the Heimlich maneuver on a chair or if any of my neighbors were home and could figure out what I was trying to communicate as I pounded on their doors and wildly clutched my throat. I figure I would either choke to death on something ironically healthy, like a sushi roll, and you all would sadly murmur, “Looks like healthy eating killed her after all.” Or I would choke on something I shouldn’t be eating at all, like an oversized cinnamon roll, and you all would sadly murmur, “What was she doing eating that anyway?”