Look, why live every day like you're going die, when how you live determines what will happen in the afterlife?
If you live like your going to die, you should probably understand that you are not very special. In fact, you are a stupid and shameless coward who, out of an irrational fear of the unknown, pretends to appreciate life's brevity. With that method, you leave yourself nothing but death after you die.
So stop crying like a retard in your basement at 4am and try my 7-week-bliss-after-death program, because it really works.
I would know.
Don't be a whiny, stupid asshole. Don't live every day as if it were your last, spending useless time and money on things you don't really need or want, like bungee jumping or loving your family while bungee jumping.
Instead, I need you to spend every minute of every day looking forward to 5 'o clock, Friday, OK?
You will spend every minute as if it were gold, measuring the distance between you and the end of the work week.
Here's how it works: Every chance you get, remind yourself and your co-workers just how far away 5 o' clock, Friday, really is.
When you are using the bathroom, take a hit of your inhaler and say to those sitting in the stall next to you, "Boy, sure glad Friday is almost here" or "It's almost Friday!" or "Hey, it's still almost Friday!" If you don't get a response, knock down the stall door and beat them until they pose as a centerfold in the calender you have made.
When sitting at your desk and your boss comes along and reprimands you for wearing jeans on Thursday, pop a Zanax with 500 mg of vitamin C and say to the person sitting next to you, "Is it five o' clock yet or what?"
And just as you get on that elevator to leave the office, right when five o' clock, Friday, finally arrives -- start the whole process over. Why? Because 5 o' clock, Friday, was but a fleeting moment, a false carrot attached to the short end of a rotting stick in your ass.
Now, do this for 7 weeks, and I will personally come to your house and kill you, escort your empty soul, along with your toupee and penis pump, to the gates of heaven and proudly hand you over to a life-after-death so grand, you will be the envy of your former self.
What then? You will live eternally in the moment just before 5pm, Friday -- the greatest moment of your life, at least since the day you started to lose all your hair and began working as a account person at a small-time financial risk-assessment firm that has been running itself into the ground for years.
I mean, that was great. But trust me, this is probably going to be much better*.
* No Money back guarantee