Yeah, I am not kidding myself. I am going to hell. God and I haven't spoken in five years. I have tried several times, but it is a lot like calling my friends when I really need to talk. I get an answering machine, a busy signal, or "due to high call volume, we can not complete your call." I am sure that if he is really there he has better things to do than deal with me.

Unfortunately, Lucifer has a better support network. Why not? Come on, they love their jobs. I have discovered what hell will be like for me: drywall mud. I will spend an eternity mudding corners and seams. The room will be an infinitely long hall that bends and twists with no corners being at right angles. Every time that I work a seam or corner, I'll go back and check it, sand it, and get ready to do the next coat. At that point, the demons assigned to me will magically put lumps in the mud, and bumps in the walls. They will have tools that spread drywall dust around to interfere with the smooth layering of the mud, and add dust to the bucket to ensure that it is lumpy as well. I will add coat after coat, sand it, smooth it, rough up the freakin' paper, try again, and ultimately wish I could start over.

Dante obviously never tried drywall work, or he would have added a level to his description of hell.

In preparation for my eternity, I will continue to do the mud in the bathroom/closet, and given our terrestrial living environment, I'll get to a point of acceptance. Hell will be another setup.

Bring it on.