Live as if today were your last?

In the whole self-helping, psychobabbling, Dr. Philosophizing of our pop culture, the worst piece of advice I've ever heard is, "Live each day as if it were your last." This is not a good plan, people.

What would I do if I knew today to be my last day in this life? Well, I can tell you what I wouldn't do. The dishes. Or the laundry. Why bother? I'm not going to the gym either. Or shopping, even though I'm out of coffee. I loathe shopping every bit as much as I loathe going to the gym. And I could just skip getting yet another estimate for the repair of my car's rattling exhaust system. Passing the E-check would fall right off the "important stuff to do" list, if, indeed, this were the last day of my life.

So what would I do? I think I'd fly - first class, of course - to someplace where the water is clear and warm, and kayak in and out of the mangroves until sunset. (I'd take as many friends and family members as care to come along. So what if I max out my credit cards?) After a good day's paddle, I'd dine on vast quantities of perfectly prepared, well-buttered seafood, drink too much wine, and eat as many chocolate desserts as possible. (Of course I'd pick up the tab for everyone. As noted, so what if I explode the plastic?)

Right. But what if  today is not the last day of my life, which it likely is not? I'd wake up tomorrow hung over, in debt, out of clean socks and a good bit closer to a coronary. With a muffler that still rattles. I told you, people, this just is not a good plan. Oh yeah . . .  and I'd have to face a dirty kitchen first thing in the morning with no coffee. Now there's a recipe for a mental health crisis.