I'm cleaning tomorrow and not because I'm a clean freak.

As an older male who lives alone, I've become more concerned about what would happen should I have a medical incident. That's why I returned to wearing my nagging smart watch. I saw a police report while helping out with the Price County Review where a smart phone contacted 911 reporting the wearer had suffered a heavy fall and was not responding to prompts. I now have something to check on me.

So the clean-up comes from the same problem. 

What happens if I don't show up for work or a Packer game at Angler's Bar and Grill and friends ask for a police check on me? (P.S.: Great game Thursday, huh?)

Not only are they going to find me slumped over in one of my two plastic chairs, they will see stacks of magazines and newspapers, backed-up laundry, a curious pattern in the bath tub that was not there when I moved in and maggots.

OK, not actual maggots.

I spilled some rice two nights ago on the kitchen tile and dried to pick it up but it was like trying to pick up actual living maggots -- I imagine.

My brilliant solution, one that comes only to older divorcees? Let the rice dry and sweep it up.

Imagine the police doing the check and find me lying in a bed of what appear to be maggots. "How long has he been gone?" one officer will ask. "And what's that smell?" another will ponder. In regard to the latter, I smell that way anyway.

No, I can't leave that legacy.

I don't want an obit that reads, "Rich Jackson, 56, Hayward, died Thursday in consort with a thousand maggots ... "

Right now, the obit will read, "Rich Jackson, 56, who once was a homeless piece of crap ... "

At least I have that going for me.

Peace and a no-maggot death unto all of you my brothers and sisters.