How not to survive the apocalypse

I'm not meant to forage for my food

One of the worst things about social media is how fucking stupid you feel when you reference it in conversation. Yeah you might occasionally say “I read a New Yorker piece about XYZ” but more often than not, it’s “I saw a TikTok about…” This is inarguably cringeworthy behaviour and it shouldn’t be socially acceptable to speak authoritatively about a topic if the only things you actually know about it are from a 35 second video fired off by some twenty year old in Williamsburg. All of this is to say, I saw a TikTok video last week by a guy saying that if and when the apocalypse happens, he’d run towards the danger and not away from it. He wasn’t bragging about his hypothetical heroism, but explaining he’d want to die immediately if the modern world ended.

I think about this every time I spend the night away from my house. There was a time when I could spontaneously decide to stay over somewhere else and not worry about it. Now, whenever I pack, the mental list of things I have to remember or I’ll die is ever increasing. Ok sure, maybe not literally die, but I can’t rule it out? I think we can all take it as a given that if there were an apocalyptic event, I would not be someone you’d want on your team. I have no survival skills, a propensity to panic and I am a big ol’ whiner. If the zombies didn’t get me immediately, you’d wish they had.

I used to think I’d want to stay alive in the event of a seismic global catastrophe but upon reflection (watching that one TikTok video) I have changed my mind. Here are the reasons I should die at the very beginning:

1. I need several pills every day to keep me level. This *level* I speak of is actually a fraying tightrope, which I will fall off if I forget any of them. SSRIS, HRT, Magnesium, probiotics, my beloved ibuprofen. I get little hearts in my eyes just thinking about the chance to take antibiotics. I have one of those pill boxes with the days of the week stamped on it like your granddad. I really don’t want to know what a world without pharmacies looks like. I will not forage for plants with healing properties. Throw me off a balcony to the zombies.

2. I am a really picky eater. Granted I am a moderate fan of seasoning now, but it’s taken me 40 years to put anything more than just salt on food. I eat the same thing for lunch pretty much every single day of my life and I google menus beforehand in case I don’t like anything and need to prepare myself for disappointment. In a perfect world, I would eat only salad and chips followed by ice cream and chased with wine. If the world is ending, I suspect I’d have to eat what was on offer and I’m not prepared to accept eating meat - animal or human (and let’s be honest, it’ll be human more often than not, won’t it?). I certainly don’t plan on foraging for my food. I would eat exactly one dodgy looking mushroom and die in agony.

3. I need a very specific sleep set up. Outside noise is a complete no no, so the constant agonised screaming of my fellow survivors would be incredibly inconvenient. On top of that, I need fully charged AirPods, an endless supply of audiobooks (I rotate them, the trick is to be able to know them by heart before you attempt to fall asleep to them lest any part of the story is still exciting to you), an eye mask which has scooped out holes for the eyes so that your lashes don’t so much as brush the fabric (when I found this option, I truly levelled up). I also, and I’m not proud of this, have a little electric blanket which lies across my boobs. Why do I need warm tits when I sleep? I don’t know! But I do know that I don’t want to come to the end times and discover that there’s no electricity to fuel my beloved breast blanket. Say no to cold bosoms! Could I sleep in a trench dug by a compatriot who insists we have to hide from the walking dead? No I could not! I would rather let the zombies rip me limb from limb.