Even as a child, I was obsessed with the idea of death and the afterlife. I think it is only natural to wonder what is going to happen when one dies. I want to prepare myself for the inevitability of death by considering everything that could possibly come after it.

I think that everyone receives their own personal Hell to suit their personality. I do not take disappointment very well. That’s why I think my own personal Hell would be exactly like real life only everyone would tell me I’m in Heaven. Not that my real life has been that disappointing, but were I to make it into Heaven, I would certainly be expecting a little bit more.

I could imagine descending into Hell and arriving at some sort of Heavenly gate where Satan is standing wearing a flowing white robe and a fluffy fake beard. He would welcome me to Heaven and I would be too overjoyed to notice any inconsistencies that otherwise might have bothered me like the tail poking out from God’s robe or the sound of people screaming in agony just behind the gates. But I would quickly notice that something was wrong.

“Boy, it’s a bit chilly up here,” I’d say.

“Well, it’s November.” I guess I would only be able to nod at this. After all, one doesn’t want to question or criticize God at the very moment he has just been accepted into his Heavenly kingdom. I would only be able to silently wonder how, in this day and age, Heaven did not yet have central air. I would have assumed that Heaven would have been one of the first places to install temperature regulation like that. “There’s a welcome center down the road,” Satan would continue, pointing through the gates. “They have coffee in there if you want to warm yourself up.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” I’d respond. “Do they have hot chocolate?”

“No.”

I imagine nothing would be a greater punishment for me than having to wait in line at the Heaven Post Office for 20 minutes to mail a simple package to someone across the afterlife. After all, one would expect Heaven to have a much more efficient method of distributing parcels. Even in an eternity, 20 minutes is a long time to be waiting for anything. Plus, I would probably park in the “15 minutes or less” space outside the front and get my car towed. I hate to even think of the logistical nightmare of impound yards in Hell.

I’d probably be more careless if I thought I was in Heaven as well. I imagine that during one of those fierce New England ice storms that I always imagined would go away after I died, my power would go out and I’d have to light candles to make my way around the house. Of course in the real world, I’m always careful to never let candles burn unattended, but I would never see a house fire coming if I thought I was in Heaven. I’d probably fall asleep on the couch waiting for the TV to come back on (not that there’s ever anything good on). I’d knock a candle over, set the entire house ablaze, and then have to bashfully explain to the little demons dressed as angel firefighters just how it was possible to start a raging blaze in Heaven. Then, out in the shivering cold, I’d probably catch pneumonia and have to spend the next several weeks recuperating in a hospital.

I suppose that Hell could be pretty awful without all kinds of deceptions like that, though. It must be pretty awkward to bump into someone you know in Hell. Like if you’re tired of the ring of the slothful and decide to wander around and take a break and suddenly stumble upon your wife toiling away in the ring of the adulterous. That would probably be a tough way to find out. And if you’re the adulterer, it would probably make explaining yourself a bit difficult. One false word and you’re busted down to the ring of falsehood so fast your head spins. It would be impossible to keep a secret.

It probably isn’t healthy to be obsessing over the afterlife. And it’s probably just screwing everything up anyway. Hell has to be worse and Heaven better than anyone can imagine. God certainly doesn’t want people to get to the afterlife and be disappointed. All hype and no substance: That’s why everyone hates Epcot. I guess the only thing I can do is live my life now and wait until I die to worry about the rest. And if I get sent to war or put in some other dangerous situation, I’d be sure to carry an extra sweater. You never know what’s waiting for you on the other side.