So you know I turned 40 a few months ago.  Promptly thereafter, I began falling apart.  My pancreas got sick, then the gallbladder removal.  Husband has recently started receiving AARP paraphernalia via snail mail and email.  He's also getting bombarded with those dating sites for saggy-baggy old people.  Naturally, I've been laughing and pointing.  Ha ha!  Old man!  Then Karma went and paid me a little visit in my mailbox.

Really?!  This is one of the reasons I've demanded to be cremated.  The only pre-planning I'm doing is making my own urn.  Because god only knows what my kid would put me in.  Probably a shoe box or Ziploc bag.  So I continued reading this crap and soon became highly amused.  I was particularly impressed with Wendy's raving review.  Because no one wants to be man-handled by strange men in mechanic overalls:

I was also impressed with their up-to-date research studies showing that all humans in living captivity better pay a bunch 'o cash to reserve that hole in the ground. (Note the sarcasm in my voice.)

I was also unaware that a large population of unprepared widows have to result to stripping and drinking to cope with the emotional stress of their unpreparedness.

But the final fact that got me to re-thinking the whole burial planning thing was this one.  Because no way am I going to go bag groceries, strip OR drink if Husband kicks the bucket and leaves me destitute.  Screw THAT.