Someday the day will end.

But, apparently, we've got a long time to go before the sun goes down.

And there are a lot of things that must get done before the day ends.

So the day will never end. We will never get to the end of the day. Except, well, how about this: at the end of the day, we will all be dead.

I don't mean to be morbid about what has become an overused cliche, but if this whole trip is just one day, it's a really long one. And I like night. It cools the air, and we can see stars. And more bars are open.

But people who have to talk all the time for their living like to be metaphorical. They like to sound like they've read the Tao of Pooh (even though they really haven't and don't believe in that kind of Eastern mumbo jumbo, praise Jesus). And they want to make their open ended non-timelines sound as though they have a plan. But they don't. So they tell us how it's gonna be at the end of the day (Everything's Gonna Be Alright, Version 7.2). Whenever the end of the day actually is, we will never know. But, you can envision it, right?

You know it'll be a bright and shiny end of the day. A lovely, mushy, gooey end of the day. A triumphant, blusterous end of the day.

No one talks about the night after the end of this day. No one says--after we get to the end of the day and everything is freakin' fixed and great and there is no need to worry about all the things we have to get done by the end of the day--well, we all went and had a nice dinner and some good wine.

What happens on the day after the end of the day? What will it be like then? Because, presumably, on the day after the end of the day, everything will be great. And what will we do on that day? How long will that day take? Is this like those seven days God took to make the world six thousand years ago? And was it at the end of one of those days when He buried the dinosaurs to test our faith? Do people not know how to tell time?

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm forgetting we have to get to the end of this day first.

Here are some clues as to when the end of the day will come:

1. Iraq will be peaceful and rebuilt and everyone in that country will love each other and be perfect little capitalists (except for the oil revenue sharing, which is only a little bit communist) and their lovely democracy will be a shining light to all the other dull eyes of the Middle East.

2. There will be tax cuts. Or there will be more taxes for the rich.

3. Everyone will ask their doctor about every drug they see advertised on TV, and the doctors will tell them to stop watching TV and call back in the morning.

4. President Bush will be the worst president in the history of the country. Or he'll be the savior of all that is right and good in America.

5. One of the teams in every major sport in America will win the big prize. And, of course, it will be your favorite team.

6. The troops will come home. Or they will keep fighting for peace. Or they will be redeployed to keep fighting for peace on a different patch of soil.

7. Johnny will learn how to read. And he will stop teasing Jenny who sits next to him in class. And he will take his meds.

8. We let everyone who wants to come to America get in our pearly gates or we'll build a big freaking wall and post snipers. Or we'll tell them they can all come in and then mow them down when they try to come across the border. Or nothing. We won't do anything about immigration except argue about the end of the day.

9. We will stop talking about how it's going to be at the end of the day.

10. The sun will go down.

Because we will never get to this proverbial end of the day. There will always be another end of the day, but we will never get to the one everyone seems to be talking about all of the time. Until we realize that maybe nothing ends so neatly at the end of any day. The day just ends.

We all gotta get up and try again tomorrow.

Matt Worley isn't sure what day it is.