The End Of The World (As We Know It)

My power was out when I went to bed last night. It’ll come back on, I thought to myself, but set an alarm on my phone just in case. Lucky (or unlucky? Is “my power was out” an excuse to sleep 'til noon and miss work?) for me. It was still out when I woke up this morning, and in fact stayed out until well after noon today.

Naturally, I was woefully underprepared for this Amish morning. A flashlight? What’s that? My sole window is shaded by our porch, so even opening the blinds provided little light. And I’m neither a cat lady nor a candle lady (both equally pathetic, in my eyes), so I only own one sad, beach-scented candle with which to light my way.

Showering by candlelight? Kind of creepy. Applying makeup by candlelight? I’m lucky I don’t look like a clown. Getting dressed by candlelight? I’m not wearing the shirt I thought I was.

And what about everything else! Never mind that I didn’t get to blowdry my hair, what about the fridge and freezer full of food I spent $70 on at Publix last night? Well, it should be fine—for now. But what about next time, when the power goes out and we’re not lucky enough to get it reinstated 12 hours later because this time it’s not due to inclement weather, it’s due to, like, zombies?

Seriously. What would I do in a zombie apocalypse? I have a Wiffle ball bat in my car. That’s about the extent of my weaponry. I get the shakes if I go without Diet Coke for too long, and I’m not sure zombies are willing to wait for me to find a place that has Coke instead of Pepsi before attacking, but no way am I choking down Diet Pepsi if you expect me to fight off zombies for hours. And I’m not too keen on getting dirty—I got criticized recently for eating BBQ ribs with a fork and knife—so getting splattered with errant brain matter? Just not my thing.

So once again, I find myself woefully underprepared. But I have a few options:

1. Get to training. I’ve probably got time to wean myself off the Diet Coke and purchase a flashlight and a bat that’s not made of blue plastic.
2. Give up. Would life in a post-apocalyptic world be all that it’s cracked up to be, anyway? I mean, I’ve read The Road*.
3. Hope that one of you kind souls would be willing to take on some dead weight in the event of the zombie revolution. I’m a team player and I can bake you cookies. Think it over.

For now I’m just going to hope that our power stays on. Those Diet Cokes aren’t going to keep themselves cold, after all.


*No, I haven't.