I wouldn’t make it …
I love post-apocalyptic movies and books. I can easily imagine a desolate future, whether brought on by the (mostly) former boogeyman of nuclear holocaust or by environmental ruin.
But such visions of the future are depressing. No electricity. Civilization and communications break down. No hygiene. No law. No way to get food, except what you produce for yourself.
And I know that should an apocalypse hit during my lifetime, I will be the first to die.
Because I can’t eat termites, like this guy who was lost in Australia. Because I can’t eat anything that’s moving. Because I can’t eat anything raw. I suppose I can eat unprocessed food, but I can’t eat weird food. I can’t eat anything that resembles itself when it was alive.
I’m not skilled in producing my own food. I wouldn’t mind becoming a vegetarian again, but I suspect I’d have a tough time living without soy products.
I also can’t deal with being dirty. I can’t live without water for showers or the toilet. I can’t live without clean laundry.
I don’t like walking long distances. Would I ride a bike if I was less afraid of being mowed down by distracted and sometimes malicious drivers? What happens when the roads are clogged with abandoned vehicles? What happens when the roads just decay to the point of being dangerous?
I never thought I’d admit to being a product of consumer civilization, but there you go.
I’m not high maintenance. I would not freak out upon learning that I would have to live without makeup or air conditioning or even refrigerated food. But I like to shower. I like toilet paper. Packaged goods will only last so long. And one can only eat so many never-changing Doritos.
So count me out in case of permanent emergency. I probably will be hoping my cats don’t prefer me as a food source when I run out of cat food.
