to perish

Shred the checkbook, you only wrote five in the last twenty years.

Release the birds; tear down their facilities and free them from the yard.

Buy a few things you want to enjoy while you live out the rest of the toothpaste.

Purchase a few strange but modern items- to be left untouched in classy handle bags.

Polish the appliances.

Gift a stranger a large amount of cash, in fifty-dollar notes.

Clear out your closets, and fill one with high quality toilet paper.

Each day drink an overly saturated with health options protein drink; small chain only.

Hide nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine dollars in cash in the house.

Establish your wardrobe with an ending thirty one new outfits; to be worn once each.

Donate everything but the trappings of the house at its best, and the thirty one hangers.

Replace every lightbulb in the house- low watt warm bulbs, not LEDs.

Establish and pre-pay for lawn service through the end of the season, and next year.

Set up fresh flower delivery subscription for a year.

Put all important paperwork in one place, under a shoe box full of lottery scratchers.

Open a bank account out of town, use it to set up subscription boxes to end when emptied.

Bury something weird.

Tape degrees behind the wall art.

Stock pantry and ice box with artisan consumables- neatly.

Make a list of all the things you wake up thinking about every morning.

Mail something to childhood address.

Swing at the park you see in your mind everyday since 1999.

Vandalize something with kindness.

Drive until you run out of gas, stay in the city you buy fuel and talk to strangers.

Visit someone from your past who you do not like.

Fast in full silence for 24 hours.

Eat cherry pie, twice.

Be happy.