This past Monday, the 28th, I stopped into the building manager's office where I have my condo and asked if anyone there was a notary and would witness a signature. Yes on both counts.
Then she asked me what I needed to have witnessed, and I told her that I was writing a Living Will and updating my Last Will & Testament. Of course she responded that she didn't think I was going to be dying anytime soon. "I certainly hope not," says I. "I'm certainly not planning on it, but you never know what is going to happen from one day to the next. I could have a massive heart attack without warning, or a fatal stroke, or who knows what."
To this she replied, "Yeah. With traffic so bad in the area, it would be easy enough to get killed just trying to get home from work, especially with the weather we've been having."
All of this took place around 1 in the afternoon. At 5pm, she closed up the office and went home to find her husband dead. I don't have the details yet, but they don't really matter. It's just so erie to have such a conversation and then have one of the very parties to that conversation visited by death a few hours later. I feel so terrible about that.

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